Marriage of Convenience
by Aella Antiope
Summary: Wolfram finally gets his royal wedding. But duty takes its toll and marriage proves to be far more difficult than expected. Secondary pairing: Murata/Yozak. In hiatus - status info can be found on my profile.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

This goes AU after Season 2, I haven't seen Season 3 so everything relating to the Aristocrats is mostly my own creation.

**Warnings:** None for this chapter. It will get more mature as the series progresses.

* * *

"This doesn't have to happen. You know that, right?" Conrad leaned against the door of Wolfram's chambers in his typical stance, arms crossed.

Wolfram was seated on a small purple divan, in the middle of removing his boot. He paused for a moment, and then continued struggling with the laces on his boots.

"It's not like I've got a choice. Günter, Brother and the Great Sage spent hours to convince the wimp. Too bad nobody thought to speak to me about it first." That was something of a sore point and he was going to have words about it to Yuuri's advisors later on, especially now that he would be taking on the Prince Consort's role. He would need to be in on every decision made. This particular decision affected him directly and they had known about it for months, _months_, and it had been just as much a surprise to him as it had for Yuuri.

Wolfram was not going to be a trophy spouse, something to look pretty on the arms of the King. He certainly wasn't going to be relegated to house duties, hosting and event coordination, as some of the previous Monarch's spouses had been. This was something that the inner circle would learn clearly, and soon; he had been raised as a Prince and trained in far more than just court etiquette and swordplay. They would _learn_ to respect his new position.

Conrad looked pained at his admission.

"You _are_ engaged to him. I think they assumed you'd be happy, but I don't think that's true, is it?"

Wolfram didn't think Conrad had the right to be asking these questions, or barging into his private chambers at this late hour. He may be his big brother...half brother, but Conrad was first and foremost _Yuuri's_ friend and protector. Why was Conrad here? Why wasn't he with Yuuri, comforting, or commiserating with the King? Lately Wolfram had come to trust his brother a bit more, but it didn't change the fact that Yuuri was Conrad's first concern, _not _Wolfram.

"Whether or not I want to marry the King is no longer a consideration. It's my _duty_." He gave up on his boots with a frustrated hiss and let his body flop back onto the divan, his head hitting the wall with a slight thump. "The Great Sage is right," he continued. "If the King remains single it will jeopardise the peace. We can't afford any more conflict or war, and for now he's better off marrying me than some young girl or boy we can't trust. Even Yuuri knows that my primary concern has always been his welfare, and he knows I love him." The last he said quietly. He refused to look at Conrad, not wanting to see pity.

He loved Yuuri. Everyone knew this; it was a fact, a constant like breathing. Three years ago he would have leapt at the opportunity to marry Yuuri, even if it was just a marriage of convenience for politics' sake; he now knew better. The engagement had dragged on for years. Yuuri was almost twenty and Wolfram had finally resigned himself to the fact that his love would never be returned the same way.

Yuuri loved him, true, as a friend, perhaps as family, like a brother. He didn't want him the same way that Wolfram wanted Yuuri, as a lover, as much _more_. It was the main reason he'd moved back into his old suite of rooms. Sleeping next to Yuuri was torture, and Yuuri had grown up to be quite an attractive man, if still unsure of his position and worth. It had always been a mystery to him why Yuuri hadn't broken off their engagement, had not protested as Wolfram was trained and gradually took on the duty of future Prince Consort.

Wolfram had never had the heart to break the engagement himself, had never been strong enough to walk away, though Shinou knew it would have saved him the pain. At least, he had thought, he could be near Yuuri, help him with his reign and help him share the burden of leadership. Some day he would train the true fiancé when Yuuri met the one he really wanted to marry, or so he had once thought.

Wolfram hadn't thought for a long time that it would be him who would marry Yuuri. He hadn't thought Yuuri would _agree _to a marriage between them or that everyone would take it as a fact, as something to be planned for.

"Besides," he said out loud in a voice devoid of any emotion, "Yuuri can divorce me in a few years when the crisis is over, or take on a lover, a mistress." He himself would never be allowed such a luxury. It would be treason against the crown and punishable by death, although he'd not even consider such a thing. In truth he'd doubt the wimp would either. He'd take the marriage vows seriously, no matter how much it would make him miserable. A misery they would both share.

"You know that his Majesty would never take on a mistress, and I doubt he'd divorce either. Wolfram, he'll take the marriage seriously. That's how he's been raised," Conrad said, mirroring Wolfram's thoughts.

This made Wolfram unreasonably angry. Perhaps it was the stress of the day. Perhaps it was the fact that Conrad knew Yuuri just as well as his fiancé did. How he _dare_ presume, how he _dare_ come in here and rub into his face something that they both knew, something that need not be said aloud.

Wolfram leaned down and pulled one boot off, flinging it against the opposite wall with a clunk. It narrowly missed an ornate vase, a family heirloom atop an antique table. He stood up and faced Conrad.

"Well, Lord Weller." Conrad flinched as he used his title. "What would you have me do? The _wimp_ needs to marry. Everyone knows this, Günter and the Great Sage have spent the last three months looking through books for a loophole in the Castle library and basement archives and if they don't know of a way out, I doubt there is one. Would you have him marry some aristocrat, some young girl from a family who has ambition? Perhaps Elizabeth?"

Conrad closed his eyes and scowled at that. They both knew that wouldn't end well politically. Conrad's obvious discomfort with Wolfram's outburst irritated Wolfram even further and he found his voice rising.

"Too bad you're a half-breed or else you'd be the _perfect_ candidate. I'm sure that would make you both happy." Oh Shinou, did he say that? He watched as Conrad's eyes opened wide and darkened with anger. They both knew how much Conrad had loved Julia. Wolfram had always suspected that Conrad still harboured some of those feelings for Yuuri, although the Captain was way too noble to act on them, considering Yuuri's inexperience and the engagement. To say it out loud though, was a thing not easily forgotten.

It had always been a wedge between them. He loved his brother, but he also hated him for that. He _loved_ Yuuri, right or wrong. Wise or not, Yuuri was the only thing he'd wanted since almost as soon as Yuuri had arrived in the kingdom. Conrad was his brother. How could _Conrad,_ how could _he _hurt his youngest brother in that way? Over the last few years the pain, the wedge of that unspoken thing between them had lessened with the knowledge he'd never have Yuuri, and knowing that Conrad could never have him either.

He knew it was an irrational feeling, and that Conrad was just as unhappy as he was, but most of the time Wolfram couldn't, _wouldn't_ let himself forgive his older brother entirely for that betrayal. But now he was to marry Yuuri, have him, but not _have him_, and why the hell was Conrad here anyway? It was all too damned complicated. His head hurt, and he just needed his mind to stop.

He flung himself back onto the divan, no longer wanting to see Conrad's anger and guilt. He leaned forward and covered his eyes with one hand. He'd tried so hard over the last few years to become more even-tempered and less prone to outbursts, but it wasn't in his nature, and the events of the day had him in turmoil.

"I'm sorry...it's just...It has to be done...but what I've said wasn't fair." It was true, but not fair.

It was silent for a while. Wolfram was afraid to uncover his face. Hot tears had started to flow behind his fingers and he expected that Conrad would leave, but there was no sound of that. Eventually Conrad spoke, apparently willing to forget Wolfram's outburst, almost gentle, tentative in a proffered truce.

"Wolfram, the marriage, it will need to be." Silence then a sigh. "You will...it needs to be consummated within three months if it is to recognised. I just...you...," Conrad stumbled over his words, but continued, "It's something that you will _have_ to make sure happens. Would you prefer me to tell Yuuri, or perhaps..."

"I'll tell him, it's only fair." He wiped the tears from his face. It would have been fairer to let Yuuri know before he had accepted the marriage; not that it would make a difference on the eventual outcome. Yuuri would always choose peace no matter the personal sacrifice on his part, but it was something nobody wanted to raise with the young King, not in front of everyone, though it be standard marriage protocol for royalty. If only they had consulted him _first_. He pushed his frustration down. Yuuri became quite embarrassed when sexuality was brought up; he was fairly innocent in that way. It would be a difficult subject to bring up with him.

"Look, Conrad, I'm tired. It's been a long day. I need to sleep." Please go away.

Conrad took the hint. "Good night, Wolfram. Remember that there will be a meeting at nine tomorrow on security plans for the wedding...and sleep well."

He nodded and watched as Conrad left the room, closing the door behind him. He sighed. He was getting everything he'd always wanted – to be Yuuri's husband, to be Yuuri's first lover. Those thoughts now filled him with dread. This was not how he wanted it to be. This wasn't about love. Although there was enough love on his part.

This was to be about duty.

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Chapter updated Feb 2011, betaed by gkeeper21, all errors are mine.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Warnings:** None for this chapter.

* * *

"So is it true? The kiddo's finally decided to tie the knot?"

Yozak had the most effective habit of blending into the background, then appearing unexpectedly. Murata would probably have fallen out of his chair in surprise if he hadn't had centuries to get a sixth sense about the whereabouts of others.

Murata was taking tea and cake on the balcony at the temple, a rare break from the chaos.

The castle and temple-proper were in preparations for the royal wedding scheduled six weeks from now, on the 'longest day'. It was here, during this period of relative peace, that Yozak had found him.

Murata didn't want to think of how Shibuya was handling all the fuss; it was true that his childhood friend was resilient, but he hated being the centre of attention and ceremony. Not such a good trait for a guy who was King, he snorted mentally, and leading up to the wedding, he was _especially_ going to be the centre of everyone's attention. Yuuri would be participating in more ceremony in the next few months than he'd seen in the last five years.

"It's true enough; the wedding will be on longest-day. How much have you heard?" Murata asked.

Murata cut a thick slice of chocolate cake he'd swiped from the castle kitchens earlier, and placed it on a plate as an offering to Yozak. The spy settled himself on the other chair, still somewhat dusty and sweat-stained from his journey.

"Not much. I was up north, scouting about the mountain passes for information on an unusually pesky gang of bandits."

Yozak took the offered slice of cake and elaborated. "Was trying to work out where they sourced their weapons when I received orders to return immediately with no reason given. I only heard about the wedding three days out from the capital, at an inn. People are in high spirits about the nuptials if you wanna know. Plenty of partying and drinking. I wish I could have participated." He smirked at that, and then added, "I have to say, Ken, I'm shocked at the news. You could have knocked me over with a feather, not that it would've been so difficult after six days hard riding."

The spy winced as he straightened his back.

"Thanks," Yozak said as Murata poured some tea and handed the cup and saucer to him. "When it came to the King and the little Lord, I expected to hear news of the end of the engagement, tears, tantrums, burnt curtains." The spy shrugged. "The usual, not this. I figured I'd come see you first, get the information from the most well-informed person in the kingdom."

Yozak winked at Murata, looking as cute and charming as one could possibly be while stuffing down chocolate cake and gulping tea from a fine, delicate china cup.

Murata forced down a blush.

Yozak had ramped up the flirtations with him over the last year, probably because he'd finally grown out of his gangly teenage years in this life and gotten some height. Murata absent-mindedly pulled one long strand of hair that had fallen out of his binding back behind his ear.

Not, he noted with some envy, as much height as Shibuya. But he'd had worse bodies, so Murata was just grateful he was no longer face-to-breast with most of the grown women at the castle, unlike Wolfram, who had put on a few centimetres - normal for a mazoku. The blond Lord would be face-to-breast height with women for another twenty years, a lot if he knew Lady Cecilie, _literally_. The busty ex-queen had a terrible habit of grabbing unsuspecting young men into firm hugs into her bosoms. Not as pleasant an experience as one would think.

Murata shook his head to clear that disturbing image from his mind and looked over at Yozak as the spy stretched his long legs up on the nearby stone balustrade. It was obvious that Yozak was interested in him, especially since he'd reached legal majority for a human in this life.

If only it was that simple. Murata was unsure how to deal with Yozak's innuendo and knowing looks.

He had no doubt he was attracted to Yozak. The man was gorgeous, and he admired the spy's intelligence, wit, and professionalism as a covert agent and soldier. Murata was certain that Yozak would be just as _creative_ a lover as he was in his job. But he also knew via castle gossip that Yozak had once been involved with Lord Conrad Weller, and Murata was certain that the spy still had lingering feelings for the captain.

Not that he couldn't have worked that out with his own eyes. Murata had become quite good at reading people, and Weller and Yozak had been dancing around each other since he'd arrived in Shin Makoku. There were definite unresolved issues there, and still plenty of sexual chemistry.

It was a complication Murata didn't want. He'd spent enough lifetimes playing second best with unrequited love. His first lifetime held the most emotional resonance even after all this time. _Oh, Shinou! _

Murata locked away those memories. This was to be his last life, his last as the Great Sage incarnated, and he wanted simple relationships. He'd lost his taste for melodrama around two thousands year ago, not that he was particularly fond of it before then. _Yet_, his inner voice which always sounded like a certain former King said, _it always follows you around_.

Murata was afraid that Yozak was trouble waiting to happen, in the best tradition of those horrendous South American soap operas that José loved to watch. This time, Murata was human and life would be blessedly short, and he didn't want to waste any time with wearisome emotional games.

So he pretended he didn't notice the way Yozak had been looking at him, or the flirting. Yes, indeed, after he had a firm talk with his young hormone-driven libido, and after the royal wedding, he would have a long discussion with the spy. Murata would see what would happen then.

Murata took another sip of tea. The breeze was quite pleasant on such a warm day. Only distantly could he hear the clash of metal as the Shrine Maidens laboured at their practice drills. The balcony was one story up, but it was well hidden and provided him with a few moments of peace in his hectic life. Yozak had worked out long ago his hiding place, and so far the spy was the only person he had shared it with. They sat comfortably for a few minutes, enjoying the silence. Soon enough there would be action. Yozak seemed patient enough to wait for more of the latest news.

"I think von Bielefeld had been considering breaking the engagement," Murata mused out loud at last.

Yozak sighed in exasperation and raised one eyebrow questioningly at Murata, "But now they _are_ getting married. I have to tell you Ken, this isn't what I expected."

"It's Zemaria," Murata explained. "They required – no – they _demanded_ that King Yuuri prove he was serious about staying as King of Shin Makoku by announcing and following through his engagement, or at least marry someone suitable in the local Aristocracy. They became skittish after the King disappeared years ago without any explanation."

"How did they know?" Yozak paused then quickly answered his own question. "We have unidentified spies."

The spymaster looked grim at this thought. Yozak prided himself on identifying the spies in the castle. Most of the resident foreign spies came from allies.

They couldn't be removed, for diplomacy's sake. Instead, they were watched to ensure that they wouldn't stumble across anything that would hurt the King and the Kingdom. The spies were given information that was more expedient to get out other than by formal channels, or otherwise fed misinformation. Whichever was best for the kingdom's security.

Of course Shin Makoku had placed spies in foreign Royal Courts and Parliaments too. Murata was certain some of their spies were also known by their allies and by some of their enemies as well, but there were a few who remained undetected and had proved useful to their intelligence. It was a necessary game played by all and it was thanks to Yozak that Shin Makoku played it so well. Murata knew that the spymaster hated being outmanoeuvred and he was sure this would be the last time that Zemaria would be underestimated.

"The spy must have been placed somewhere close to the King – a guard or servant perhaps – to find out this much. It could be Adelbert von Grantz or one of his people, but I find that hard to believe, considering his allegiance to Yuuri because of Julia," Yozak surmised, frowning at that possible scenario. "I wonder how much they actually know."

Shibuya's Earth origin was a secret the advisors had kept from allies, the people and most of the Aristocracy. The official line was that Yuuri grew up in a provincial backwater of Shin Makoku, a security measure implemented after the political instability of the war, living as a relative commoner until Shinou declared him King and sent Lords Weller and von Christ to retrieve him.

This cover explained Yuuri's naivety, his odd accent, and social manner.

Murata was sure the truth of Yuuri's origins had gotten out before they had clamped down on it, and he too had thought of Adelbert as a possible leak. But who could possibly believe that the King of the strongest nation came from another world, and travelled back and forth through a magical gate using water? No, it must have been a talented spy or spies sent more recently to investigate Yuuri's disappearance. Strangely enough, nobody seemed to care enough to wonder where the Great Sage came from, which was fine by him.

"I also doubt it was Adelbert, although he may have said something to clue Zemaria into the possibility. Who knows? It's probably a spy," Murata said.

The leak had to be found, and soon, but he had faith in Yozak's ability to resolve the matter quickly.

"However they came by the information, now they know," Murata continued. "Zemaria is threatening to tell others in the alliance. They claim they have good evidence. This could be disastrous for trade and stability. Everyone knows that it's the King that has secured us this peace."

He didn't have to spell it out to Yozak. As half-mazoku, Shibuya would reign for a least another three hundred years or so, barring assassination or accident. It was eons politically from the point of view of human nations. A surety of such long term stability was essential.

"The only way we could assure the Zemarian King that Shibuya wouldn't up and leave our world when things got tough was that he would marry, with full tradition, including consummation," Murata said in a neutral tone.

And all things considered, it was an _almost_ reasonable request. Yuuri had been engaged to the young von Bielefeld Lord for five years. Why would anyone be engaged for so long if the end intent wasn't marriage?

"They must know that Yuuri would take marriage seriously," said Yozak. "The spy must have observed the King for some time, although I'm not sure why they didn't work out that the kid takes his reign just as seriously as he would any marriage."

"Who knows?" Murata sighed. "Perhaps they thought he'd fall in love with someone from his home world and stay. He _is_ still young."

Young humans were known for being fickle. Zemaria was a human Kingdom. It was only to be expected they would see Shibuya as a young teenage ruler, still untested. Trust was still a difficult thing even after all these years following the war.

"I don't like this, Ken. Was it entirely wise to cave into their demands so quickly? For all we know they could up the ante. Yes, from their point of view, asking for a marriage seems somewhat...rational," Yozak said with a grimace of distaste. "They don't know the King like we do, so they do have reason to be concerned for their security, but now we're doing what they asked. What's not to say they wouldn't come back again with further demands?"

It was a good question. Murata took a moment to consider his response.

"It is something we thought about. Lord von Voltaire was particularly unimpressed with Zemaria's ultimatum, but you should see the missive that he sent to Zemaria in reply. It was pure diplomatic artistry."

He gave Yozak one of his bland bemused grins. "On the one hand, we acceded to their demands, heavily suggesting that the wedding was going to take place eventually and we kindly decided to schedule it earlier as a sign of respect, as a loyal ally and _friend_. Von Voltaire then made some pointed allusions to how close our military garrison was to their borders, and implied, in the event that the information got out, or that Zemaria brought the matter up again, that it would be good experience for our cavalry to practice in their tropical climate."

"That would send a clear warning," Yozak admitted with grudging admiration. He emptied his cup with a sigh of satisfaction.

"That's not all," Murata continued, his grin turning wicked. "The King of Zemaria, Octavus the Third, has been invited to the wedding, and we do expect he shall attend along with his lovely wife and some of his children. Lord von Voltaire will speak further to him then, and since the Zemarians are _rational _when it comes to their security, I'm sure there will be no misunderstandings."

Yozak half snorted.

"Of course we'll then throw Shibuya at Octavus for a few hours and any hard feelings will be long forgotten," Murata went on, shooting a grin at the spy. "But regardless, you should brush up on your Zemarian accent. I have a feeling that's where you'll be heading next."

Murata's grin faded, and he looked at the spy pointedly.

"Yeah." Yozak scratched his head. "I'd figured I'd be off to make sure this mysterious evidence disappears." He sighed dramatically. "And I've only just got back. I wonder if I'll have time to return for the wedding. I might have to get Conrad to cover it." The spy stretched his legs out further on the balustrade with obvious contentment. Murata tried, and failed, to ignore his long legs and the tight pants they were in. By the grin Yozak was giving him a moment later, he knew that his observation had been noticed and welcomed. He reddened. _Damn those hormones!_

"It's sad that the wedding is being forced under blackmail," Murata quickly remarked before the spy could make any comment on his obvious perving. The young Sage purposely tilted his head so that the light glinted white off his glasses, the better to hide his feelings.

"But it was only a matter of time," Murata mused. "The people and the Aristocrats have been getting restless with the King's marital state. If Shibuya wasn't engaged, we could probably wait another ten or even twenty years before he was expected to marry someone, but the engagement to von Bielefeld so early opened the floodgates. The pressure to marry would have only gotten greater."

Murata smiled blandly as he continued, "I think that was more a consideration for von Voltaire and von Christ than allaying Zemaria's concerns. The blackmail was just a convenient excuse."

He wondered if Yuuri knew this. For all his naivety, the young King wasn't oblivious. He saw more than he let on.

"So his marriage to little Lord Brat was unavoidable?"

Murata winced at the nickname, even though he knew that Yozak was saying it in jest and partly out of habit. It was true Wolfram was a challenging personality, but he'd grown up a lot in the last few years. He now believed that the young Lord would make a reasonably competent Prince Consort and a valuable companion and confidant to the King, although he was sure that Gwendal, Günter, and the Aristocrats were in for a surprise if they thought he'd take orders from anyone other than Yuuri.

"Who else? The former Queen's youngest was the only choice." Murata shrugged. "The Aristocrats and the people would expect he'd marry someone of good breeding and we can trust von Bielefeld. He's been groomed for the role for years, thanks to Lord von Voltaire and his obsession with appearances. Wolfram knows court etiquette and the alliances; he knows the law and he's attended many of the inner circle meetings."

Although not as many as Wolfram had wanted. Murata had a feeling that Gwendal still didn't think his youngest brother was mature enough to participate fully in state matters, and although he did agree that Wolfram was still fairly young and hot tempered, Murata felt the best way for him to gain experience would be to involve him more in Yuuri's administration.

"He'll certainly put his life on the line for the King," Murata added. That, they had all seen.

"You'll get no argument from me. I've seen how much Lord von Bielefeld cares for the kid, but I can't help but feel a bit sorry for him." Yozak sounded a bit sad.

_You'd know about unrequited love, wouldn't you?_ Murata thought.

"It will certainly be a challenge for them both, but I think it will work out eventually," Murata replied, taking another sip from his cup.

"And if not," the spy said in his characteristic sarcastic drawl, "it won't be the first time that Shin Makoku has had royal marriages where the couple didn't get along. Just recall what was said about King Waltorana the Second and his wife. For two centuries, she lived in another province, and they publically attended their duties together for only as long as necessary. It worked out well enough."

"For everyone bar Princess Yolanda," Murata murmured, his usual easy going demeanour changing, hardening, his eyes still reflecting the light. "I was the Princess Consort's handmaiden," he answered in response to Yozak's confused look. "I got to see the scars – the twentieth King of Shin Makoku was fond of pain. Inflicting it, that is."

He also remembered licking those scars lovingly. Princess Yolanda was a beautiful person, and never did deserve such a marriage. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to think of it.

Those past lives always threatened to overwhelm him. Four thousand years...so many loves.

Yozak winced, and when he spoke, his tone was apologetic, "I heard about that too. It's not just history for you, is it?"

Murata ignored the question. There was no point explaining. Only one person could possibly understand, in a way, and he was no longer around. Moving along, that was then and he lived now. And Yozak was _now_, as was Yuuri and his fiancé, the future of this Kingdom.

"Well," Murata sighed, changing the subject back to the current topic, "we know von Bielefeld and the King's marriage will be more positive. They are friends, and if nothing else, the King does like and respect Wolfram. If people who hate each other can perform their required bedchamber duties," he said in a dry deadpan, his voice sounding flat, "then I'm sure those two can, even if it seems that the King prefers women."

"Nothing alcohol can't fix, and Wolfram is certainly easy on the eye," Yozak said with a dry half-laugh, half serious.

"I must confess, Ken, I'll never understand human taboos and culture. Everyone has a preference, yes? I prefer men." His brief smile directed at Murata was feline. "But I'm not averse to a bit of action from a lass if she has the right sense of humour, and if she's up for a bit of fun."

"Human culture is interesting," Murata replied, once again tucking the wayward length of hair behind his ear, "I think some Earth anthropologists, scholars who study human behaviour and culture," he explained at Yozak's confused look, "would love to study Shin Makoku's culture. There has been much debate on Earth about whether sexual preference was a choice, or if it was something people were born with."

After thousands of years Murata still found humans puzzling. Some of the human cultures in this world were much like that from Earth, despite them having lived next to Shin Makoku for centuries. Although they had been influenced by the more dominant mazoku cultural conventions in some ways, they had customs that Shibuya would have been more comfortable with. Most humans either considered themselves heterosexual or homosexual, the blurring of those lines frowned upon. Not that most mazoku Aristocrats, or any mazoku, paid much attention to the habits of their human neighbours. Yozak was more an exception in noticing these things.

Murata had been firmly bisexual for so many of his past lives, human and mazoku, male or female. He could never remember having been anything else, barring the few lifetimes he wasn't interested in sex at all. He suspected that mazoku were so long lived that bisexuality wasn't prohibited.

Humans were more complex. Nature or nurture, he could never decide. Perhaps it was somewhere in the middle. For Wolfram's sake, he hoped that Yuuri would overcome any same-sex aversion he'd picked up in Japan, and for the sake of protocol that Yuuri wasn't firmly heterosexual. Alcohol could only do so much; it would help with the mechanics, but the emotional pain from such a forced coupling, even if it was just once, would bring hurt to his friends afterwards. Yes, he did see Yuuri _and _Wolfram as his friends and he was rather fond of both of them.

He took another sip of tea and smiled at Yozak, pushing aside his concern. There was nothing he could do about it now.

"So, how about you? Glad to be back in the Capital?"

"Oh yeah, it was a wild goose chase in the mountains. Freezing too. I'll be glad to have a nice long hot soak in the baths, some decent food, and a soft bed to sleep in."

Yozak stretched his arms out and then hauled himself out of his chair while less than surreptitiously pocketing the rest of the chocolate cake in his pack. "I'd better go. Duty calls." He shot Murata a bright smile. **"**But...after this is all over, Your _Eminence_, we should catch up. Go for a horse ride out in the country perhaps?" Yozak's tone was tentative despite his customary light sarcasm.

Murata nodded in agreement.

"That would be nice," he agreed, the statement sounding painfully neutral to his ears.

Yozak nodded and adjusted his pack, his expression now just as neutral.

"Maybe you should go catch up with Lord Weller next. He's been very uptight over the wedding preparations," Murata suggested quickly before the spy said anything that would make things awkward. Yozak would know why Weller was stressed. _Go sort out your issues with the Captain first_, Murata thought wearily, _and then we will talk._

Yozak sighed, his brows drawn down in a fleeting expression of thought, but then he grinned at Murata, his usual carefree persona back in place instantly.

"Will do. Guess I'll see ya at the debriefing later on." He blew Murata a kiss, then jumped off the balcony, drawing a few squeals from some startled Shrine Maidens below. Yozak always had to have his moments of theatrics.

Murata took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. It was such a calm beautiful day. If only it could be more like this in Shin Makoku. The next few weeks were certainly going to be challenging.

* * *

Chapter updated Feb 2011, betaed by gkeeper21, all errors are mine.

Please see profile for progress. Any new concrit is welcomed. As of now the rest of the series is unbetaed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Warnings:** Mature discussion of sex

* * *

Lady Celi, Anissina, fifteen year old Greta, and Doria were sorting through all the royal invitations laid out on the long, oak dining table. Piles of papers were everywhere, in a makeshift system that anyone else would find chaotic. With the wedding looming, some of the invitations needed to be sent within days. Bright morning sunlight was streaming cheerfully into the room, making the gold engraved invitations shine brightly.

They had almost sorted through the most urgent invites when Lasagna appeared in tears with a kitchen crisis. Günter had insisted that some rare ingredients – which were most unfortunately out of season – be used for one of the items on the wedding banquet menu. The former queen and Doria had gone down to find a solution, or to placate the excitable Günter, whichever would be easier.

This left behind Anissina and the young Princess alone with the sorting.

"Anissina?" Greta asked, her long brown wavy hair beginning to fall out of the braid she regularly kept it in. "Why has Papa Wolfram been so angry the last few days? He's wanted to marry Yuuri for years. Shouldn't he be happy?" Her voice ended plaintively.

Anissina looked at the young Princess wondering how much, or how little, Wolfram had told her. Probably very little. Both the King and Wolfram had always been protective towards their daughter, and Anissina didn't think Wolfram would ever confide in Greta when it came to his feelings for the King.

Yes, Wolfram had been angry the last few days. Although angry, Anissina thought, was an understatement. While the little brat's attitude had improved a lot over the last few years – and that was something she only grudgingly admitted – he could still be very difficult. The last week of frenzied wedding preparations had obviously taken a toll on the Lord.

"He threw a fireball at Michael yesterday for making a mistake in the rehearsal for the wedding horse procession," Greta said, chewing lightly on her top lip in worry.

Michael was Wolfram's second in command, a dependable young mazoku from one of the minor Noble families and a frequent victim of Wolfram's recent outbursts. Greta and Michael had become good friends, something Anissina was keeping a close motherly eye on. As much as Wolfram and Yuuri loved Greta and doted on her, they were themselves more like Uncles or older brothers to the teenage Princess. Yuuri was _only_ five years older than the girl.

Gwendal had only approved her adoption because both boys had the support of older and wiser family and friends who could be relied upon to help raise the little girl. Anissina had been happy to help. Greta was a lovely child who was easy to be around and eager to learn. However, the Princess was reaching those teenage years where the advice of an older woman was much needed and her two adoptive parents were understandably preoccupied with other matters.

"He apologised to Michael afterwards."

Which, Anissina decided, was the least Wolfram could do.

"But Papa is still in a terrible mood," Greta sighed morosely.

Anissina had never been the biggest fan of Wolfram. His two older brothers had coddled and spoilt the young brat horribly to make up for the frequent absences of their mother and the years they had been away during the war. But she could understand Wolfram's frustrations. It had just been over a week since the wedding had been called and Wolfram had been positively pre-explosive or post-explosive with everyone. With the conspicuous exception of the increasingly bewildered King whom Wolfram had become quite protective and conciliatory towards.

Usually, Wolfram would be yelling at the King two or three times a week or insulting him for his 'wimpiness'. Come to think of it, over the last couple of years, Yuuri had reacted to Wolfram's antics with poorly-concealed amusement or at the worst, low level exasperation. Only Gwen or Conrad called Wolfram on his bad behaviour if he went too far.

Anissina didn't think that the King knew how to take this hesitant, even-spoken Wolfram of the last few days.

As for Yuuri, she could see that he was quite unsettled with his sudden preparations for the wedding – with dealing with the vows, the rituals, and the reality of marrying someone who he'd never expected he would. Anissina had never entertained the idea that the two would wed, scoffing at Gwen's resolve that Wolfram be trained in all the protocols of being the Prince Consort. All in all, the whole situation was a recipe bound for disaster.

She recalled her discussion with Gwendal a few nights ago, as they were settling into bed after a particularly busy day. Apparently, Wolfram had confronted Gwendal, Günter, and Conrad. The Great Sage had managed to avoid the said confrontation, with his sixth sense undoubtedly coming into play. Anissina didn't think it fair, as the Great Sage was the one who finally convinced the King. But who would dare gainsay the Great Sage?

"Wait, _what_?" She had given Gwen a pointed look. "You never told Wolfram before the meeting that it had been decided that Yuuri was to marry him? Gee, I can't_ imagine_ why he'd be so upset that you didn't consult him earlier. It was only _his own wedding and future_."

As much as she loved Gwendal, she was on Wolfram's side in this.

Anissina knew she could sound quite cutting, but seriously, the big idiot deserved it. At least Gwen had the sense to look contrite, which had been cute, his hair all tousled and free from its usual tie...but she refused to be distracted.

"I thought Conrad would talk to him, and it turned out that he'd thought I had spoken to him," Gwendal responded a tad defensively.

"_Ha!_ So in the end neither of you told him! You're both big babies!" Anissina glared.

_I swear_, she had thought, _Men were the biggest fraidy cats when it came to talking about emotions. _

And Gwen and Conrad were the worst. Wolfram had his own issues too, but at least he was man enough to express his feelings...well, most of the time.

"So how badly did Wolfram take it?" she had asked.

"Badly." Gwendal's tone was quiet and grim. "He was livid. He was so angry he didn't even have the composure to wield fire. He broke that heirloom vase with the roses and ugly bearbees."

Anissina had hugged the distraught Gwendal tightly. He had never dealt well with strong public displays of emotion from others, especially not from those he cared most about.

Anissina really wished she could attend these meetings and inject much needed common sense in the discussion, but as a Karbelnikoff she had to be seen as neutral. And besides, she was rarely included in the inner circle, unless called upon directly by the King, or if the Kingdom was in another crisis. Though, Anissina had to admit, she was glad the vase had been destroyed. Gwen was right; it had been truly ugly!

She sighed, her thoughts returning back to politics. Her brother's political faction, whilst sympathetic to the inner circle, constantly played silly games with the conservative faction. The conservative group was opposed to the inner circle – Voltaire, Christ and Spitzweg, those closest to the King. Ironically the conservatives were led by Waltorana von Bielefeld.

It was no secret that Wolfram had practically severed all ties to his fathers' family, but for the sake of saving face, the elder Lord von Bielefeld had not disowned his young nephew. After all, Wolfram was his best connection to the King and the conservatives were always vocally supportive of the crown.

_Hypocrites!_

Shinou had selected the Bielefelds to hold the spirit of the Maou as Monarch dozens of times in the Kingdom's history. This just proved that Shinou was well on his way to insanity himself. Each time a Bielefeld reigned, upheaval and disaster followed. Wolfram's family had a reputation for madness, cruelty, and a genius for wielding the elements

So far, it seemed Wolfram had escaped most of the Bielefeld influence, which should perhaps be credited to the Spitzweg genes and the grounding influence of Gwen and Conrad. The pretty Lord had grown up to be fairly sane and even-minded despite family troubles throughout the war years. Wolfram's accidental engagement to King Yuuri had, to Anissina's surprise, further served to make Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld a half decent member of the castle's inner advisers (unofficially) and future Prince Consort.

Just as it was politics which prevented her from officially participating in King Yuuri's meetings, it was politics that meant she couldn't marry Gwen. Such a formal alliance – and a marriage would certainly be seen that way – between the Karbelnikoffs and Voltaires would be a bad move.

Not that she wanted to particularly for its own sake. Marriage always favoured the men in the relationship and Anissina was not going to be anyone's good little wife, and she had no interest in playing house mistress at the Voltaire Estate. It galled her though, that the choice had been taken away from her. She hoped court politics would be sorted in the next hundred years or so. She did hope to have a baby sometime and it would be nice for the child to be recognised by the powerful Voltaire family, even if they choose not to marry.

Anissina shook her head clear of her recollections. Focusing on the present, she decided to candidly share her thoughts with the Princess.

"Men are stupid, Greta. Your Papa Wolfram is afraid that Yuuri won't love him the way he wants him to when they get married."

"Oh," Greta said sadly. "That makes sense. But I thought that Papa had gotten used to being just a close friend to Yuuri. Yuuri does love Papa. Just not the same way you love Gwendal. Can't it stay the same after they marry?"

Oh to be as optimistic as a teenager.

"Greta, the marriage will force them to be _together_ like me and Gwendal, which makes your Papa sad because he knows that Yuuri doesn't love him in that way."

"Oh..._oh_!" Understanding came to Greta instantly and the teenage Princess grimaced, obviously not wanting to think about her fathers in _that _way. "Perhaps he could learn to _love _Papa?" she asked a little tentatively.

Anissina privately thought that it _could_ happen. It wasn't the first time that people had learned to love each other after a politically convenient marriage, but she wouldn't stake the happiness of anyone on it either.

"Perhaps," she allowed.

"It's funny, Anissina. For the longest time I really wanted a mother and kept hoping that Yuuri would marry a beautiful Lady, like Elizabeth. But as I got older, I just couldn't imagine Yuuri marrying _anyone_." Greta paused, obviously thinking carefully of what to say next, her fingers twirling in the curly locks that had fallen free around her face. "I don't know why. Yuuri loves people and I think he loves Papa a lot, but it's not quite...the same way you talk about Gwendal. I can tell you love Gwendal. Or when Papa talks about Yuuri, it's _almost_ there, but he doesn't love Papa that way. I never could work out why." She sounded puzzled by this.

Anissina was about to reassure Greta that no matter what, her fathers would always love her. But Greta wasn't ten anymore. She was almost of age and she didn't need that reassurance. Humans grow up so fast. Soon, Greta would be married herself with children. The Princess wouldn't have the same luxury of time like mazoku did. Anissina smothered those depressing thoughts quickly.

"Well maybe your Papa will be in a better mood today. He's taking Yuuri up to the Sacred Tree for lunch. It will do them good to get away from the insanity of the castle for a time."

With that positive thought they focused their attention on sorting the invitations.

* * *

It didn't take long to convince Brother, Conrad, and Günter to free Yuuri's schedule for lunch.

After their previous 'discussion' – which was him pretty much yelling at the three of them for not informing him of the Zemarian situation and the proposed marriage solution – they swiftly agreed. Of course Conrad knew why he wanted that time alone with Yuuri. Wolfram was certain that Gwendal suspected, which made for a few uncomfortable moments with his brothers, but at least it gained him some cooperation.

Despite that, it took almost a week to clear Yuuri's schedule. What with the King being caught up in wedding preparations, a crash course on Zemarian politics, and the mazoku-human alliances on top of the general running of the Kingdom, it almost made Wolfram wish he was still sharing a bed with Yuuri so he could get some time with him alone. Not that that would have worked out now that the wedding was announced. Tradition had it that it was bad luck for there to be any sex between them for three months beforehand. Which was all kinds of ironic considering that their relationship had _always_ been platonic.

Sex within three months before the wedding was thought to be unfavourable for the crops. How that rubbish superstition started, Wolfram had no idea and he didn't care to ask Günter and spend the next three hours hearing him rambling on about the beauty and symbolism of matrimony. All he knew was that he had no chance to talk to Yuuri alone, or _be seen_ alone with him.

They did, however, spend quite a bit of time together with Günter, going over the wedding ceremony vows. Which was all kinds of frustrating for Wolfram. He wanted to let Yuuri know about the requirements of a royal marriage as soon as possible. He didn't think his nerves could handle any more waiting.

For one horrible moment on the second day of Günter's training, the latter was waxing poetic about the beauty of rituals and those that were going to be enacted at the Temple. Wolfram thought the idiot tutor would tell Yuuri everything, and out of all the ways the truth could come out, this would be the worst.

Günter had started talking about the importance of the number three within the magnificent traditions of Shin Makoku, reciting all the ways it was used in royal matrimony when he abruptly closed his mouth at the fierce look Wolfram was sending his way.

Oh Shinou, the sooner the week was over, the better.

* * *

It was a beautiful day as it always was at this time of the year. A little bit hot, but the cool breeze would make up for it when they went up above the city.

"So where are we off to?" Yuuri grinned excitedly.

After days of lessons, wedding consultation, and signings indoors, Wolfram could not begrudge the King his enthusiasm.

"I'd thought we'd go up to the Sacred Tree. It will be nice up there. The cool breeze comes downwards from the easterly mountains. I got the servants to pack us a lunch."

Wolfram wished he could have enjoyed Yuuri's obvious pleasure in the outing but his stomach was in knots just thinking of what he had to tell the wimp. He had spent half the night rehearsing what he was going to say, but none of the speeches that he came up with sounded right. He kept imagining Yuuri staring at him in disgust or disappointment. Or both.

"Oh heh, where's Conrad?" Yuuri looked around as he got up on Ao.

There were three of Wolfram's men and four of Gwendal's. Yuuri rarely left the castle without Conrad and his men. But the route was short and relatively safe and the hill was defensible so Wolfram felt only a few men were needed and his own sword was always with him.

Wolfram was expecting Conrad's absence even though he hadn't asked for it; it would make what he had to say awkward with his brother watching, even if Conrad went away to give them privacy. Wolfram couldn't imagine any of his brothers going along for this ride.

"He's busy with wedding preparations," he explained quickly and got up on his white mare, Blume.

That was the truth, mostly. There was plenty of security matters that Conrad needed to attend to before the wedding. "Come on, wimp. Let's get out of here before Günter comes after us for more lessons." He grinned at Yuuri's look of mock panic as he grasped the reigns of his horse.

Yuuri was handsome up on his horse. Over the last few years, he'd grown and was almost as tall as Conrad. Although Yuuri's shoulders had widened a little, he was still quite thin. As a half-mazoku, Yuuri would probably remain like that until he was sixty or so. It was hard to say; it was different with every half-breed depending on which parent they took after.

Yuuri's hair was quite short in spite of Wolfram nagging him that long hair would be nobler. In response, Yuuri had then teased Wolfram for keeping his hair relatively short too, though he'd grown it a little. Wolfram petted his hair self-consciously. Long hair was a pain to grow with his curly locks, not like Yuuri whose hair was similar to Gwendal's. And just like Gwendal, Yuuri's hair would grow long and straight; it would suit him too. It always did when the Maou spirit became dominant.

Wolfram wondered what Yuuri would be like when he got to full growth. Would he be tall and slim like Günter? Or gain more muscle with sword training and end up with Conrad's build? Perhaps he'd grow up to be like Brother. Wolfram wouldn't reach Yuuri's height for at least another twenty years. It made him a little sad thinking about it, that Yuuri would move on faster than him...and die before him. Wolfram smothered that thought quickly and directed Blume towards the gate and led them out.

* * *

The view from up on the hill was clear and lovely, the summer light making everything so green and bright. The ride through the city and out up to the hill had been rather uneventful, apart from the knots in his stomach getting 'knottier'.

Now he and Yuuri were sitting below the Sacred Tree. Yuuri was leaning against the broad trunk, enjoying the view of the castle and the city. The red and gold pennants fluttering from the Castle towers could be seen easily even from such a distance. Wolfram's and Gwendal's men had ranged themselves further down the hill to give them privacy, taking time to have something to eat too, but always on alert for any movement.

It was secure under the old Sacred Tree; an assassin could hardly sneak up on them without being in plain view. Wolfram had selected this place partly because of that, and partly because he needed privacy to speak to Yuuri and be seen not breaking the three month abstinence rule. The men below were effective chaperones. With a burp, which Wolfram frowned at, Yuuri crawled down next to him, eyes gazing upwards. Wolfram had walked out further to look at the view and lie on his back.

"Come on, let's cloud watch," Yuuri said.

"What?" Wolfram asked as Yuuri pulled him down. He complied with a sigh of irritation, lying next to Yuuri. "What's the point of this?" he asked after a moment, removing an offending twig that was sticking into the small of his back.

Like Yuuri, he gazed up at the fat clouds floating above. Wolfram turned his head and noticed how close his face was to Yuuri's and he quickly turned away before the King could catch him staring so near.

"Haven't you ever cloud watched? You can make a game of it," Yuuri explained. "See." He pointed at one particularly fluffy cloud. "That one...that one looks like a bearbee."

"It's a _cloud_, Yuuri," Wolfram said, his voice carefully enunciated as if he was speaking to an especially slow eight-year-old.

"Oh come on, _Wolfram_," Yuuri whined, although it sounded less endearing now with his older deeper voice than when he had been fifteen. "Can't you see it? It's shaped just like one." Yuuri pointed once more, his finger tracing around the edge of the cloud. "See the bits on the side, those are the wings...and those are the antennas, but you have to look at it sideways."

Wolfram had to admit that it did look a little like a bearbee now that Yuuri had pointed it out to him, though the wind was rapidly pushing it into a very different shape.

"Hmmm," Wolfram said noncommittally. It was a silly game, but perhaps it was a little fun. Especially if Yuuri enjoyed it.

They had spent very little time alone together recently, even rarer without Weller around. If only he could unwind and let himself enjoy the moment more.

They had eaten. Yuuri was relaxed and they still had a spare couple of hours free. Now was the best time to talk to Yuuri, and it would be easier saying it to him while gazing up at the sky.

"There is something I have to tell you," he said just at the same time as Yuuri's "I was thinking about something."

They both laughed. Wolfram's laughter was fuelled more by nerves and he was afraid it would show. He turned his head to look at Yuuri lying next to him, their faces so close. He glanced at Yuuri's lips and up again into his dark eyes.

"You first?" Yuuri said softly, his breath ghosting on Wolfram's cheek.

"No, you go first."

It was better to get Yuuri's thoughts out of the way beforehand. Wolfram had a feeling that things between them would become awkward after he told the King about the necessary consummation.

"Well, after we're...married." Wolfram did not miss the pause there, brief as it was. "I think we should change a few things with you guys advising me and change your role."

"My role?" he asked confused where Yuuri was going with this.

"Well, I asked Günter about what you will be doing as Prince Consort. He gave me some books about the previous ones. Heh, you didn't tell me that you had six other ancestors as Monarchs other than Shinou. That Waltorana guy looked nothing like you, which is good considering how horrible he was."

Yuuri was rambling, as he had a habit of doing sometimes.

"What were you thinking about my role?" Wolfram interrupted, getting Yuuri back on track.

"Umm, it's up to me to decide how much responsibility you'd get when you're appointed officially as Prince Consort. I thought you'd want to be fully involved with all the administration. You know more about ruling than I do, and certainly more about Shin Makoku protocol. I would give you some sort of title like 'Royal Element Wielder Adviser'." Yuuri paused. "Or does that sound too long? And I'm thinking I should sign you over as Prince Regent formally for when I'm away. Like when I go visit my family, although I'll be doing less of that now. I could be sick, or...who knows?"

"_Yuuri!_" Wolfram exclaimed, not sure if he should be outraged, embarrassed or touched, his emotions wavering from one to the other.

"Well it makes sense, doesn't it? You'll be around me more than anyone else; you'll be assisting me directly. You know almost as much as I do when it comes to the workings of the Kingdom, even more in many ways. You've been educated and trained for_ decades_."

"Royal Element Wielder Adviser, Prince Regent?" Wolfram repeated, his tone somewhat dubious. He was touched that Yuuri would think about his new role, but he did tend to go overboard sometimes.

"Yeah, that's what I mean about changing things. Everyone has different roles in advising me. You're the number one elemental wielder in the Kingdom apart from me, and that's more the Maou so it doesn't really count,"

Wolfram almost protested. The Maou _was Yuuri_, but he stopped himself as Yuuri continued, "Gwendal is really good with foreign affairs and war strategy, although there will be _no_ war."

Wolfram had to laugh internally at Yuuri's resolve.

"Günter is great at all the paperwork and all the zillions of protocol and etiquette rules," Yuuri continued. "Conrad looks after security and gives me good sword lessons. Yozak is the spy guy and Murata is the expert in like, _everything_, so we couldn't even begin to come up with a title for him. It's good Murata has a formal one already; he's the Great Sage. That's good enough."

Wolfram didn't have the heart to inform Yuuri that the Great Sage didn't have a job or title; he had a vocation, just like the King. It was a great deal more than 'good enough'. In some ways, Yuuri could be so wise and in others, so utterly oblivious. Wolfram refused to believe this naivety was cute, most of the time.

"We already know what everyone does, Yuuri. At least you do. So why give them titles? Brother and Günter are already Lords of their own lands," Wolfram told him.

"Well yeah. It's because I'm the only one who knows. _Only us_! Though, I'm not quite sure about all the work that Gwendal does," Yuuri sighed. "You'll have to help me work that out, Wolf. Come to think of it I'm not really sure what Günter does either. But I want to know." Yuuri smiled a little bemusedly. "So we all know what everyone's responsibilities are, for the most part." He added, "But nobody else does. Am I making sense?"

Wolfram wasn't sure that was entirely true. He was certain some of the Aristocrats had an idea. Their roles weren't that big a secret if anyone cared to investigate. Yet Wolfram had to grudgingly admit that Yuuri did have a point. Most of the people had little idea of how decisions were made. That wasn't entirely a bad thought as far as Wolfram was concerned.

"Why should we care what other people know?" Wolfram asked, exasperated but curious at Yuuri's reasoning.

"Because they will want to talk to me about different issues. And it's not just the people. It's foreigners or even some of the other Aristocrats. They might find it better to talk to some of my advisors beforehand. It's better they get to speak to someone who knows what they are talking about."

"But can't you talk to one of us and then speak to them. It doesn't seem very responsible, does it?"

And usually Yuuri wanted to be there to talk to everyone, to help everyone personally.

_You're the King, Yuuri. I thought you had come to realise how important that role was._

"It's not about lessening my responsibility, Wolfram." Yuuri's voice was serious. "It's about managing the Kingdom in a smart way. I've been reading all these books my brother gave me on management. They say that a smart CEO, a leader, knows how to delegate. I _need _to trust my advisors to let me know if there is anything important I have to work on, to get involved with personally as soon as possible."

"Anyway," Yuuri continued in an unhappy voice. "It won't change anything at first; it's just making things official. The important thing is trying to convince them to tell me what's going on." Yuuri's tone hardened, he didn't need to elaborate on who 'them' was.

"Wolfram, I'm never going to be an expert at everything or know every single detail of every law or protocol. That's why I have you guys. Everyone does a great job, but I need to manage matters so that things get done faster so that the people get the help they need. And I _need _you, Wolfram, to help me. You're always honest with me and this...you've been trained in so much about Shin Makoku. This is your home."

Yuuri had such a sincere tone.

Wolfram turned his head to look at the King. Yuuri was still gazing at the passing clouds. His eyes shone with resolve, his mouth grim and determined.

'Oh, Yuuri,' Wolfram sighed softly.

_This is your home too. _

Wolfram felt himself yielding, softening. Yuuri always had this effect on him. Wolfram always wanted to be needed and valued. At the beginning, just after he became engaged, he didn't feel as if he was wanted. Wolfram didn't feel as if Yuuri needed anything from him. This had gradually changed. Often now, Yuuri asked Wolfram what he thought. Asked Wolfram what he should do. Despite the fact that a lot of the time – too _many_ times – Yuuri didn't heed him. Yet Yuuri always listened. Yuuri would always consider his advice. With the King's respect, his brothers and Günter had also started to treat him with a little more esteem.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad married to Yuuri if this was all he ever got. This respect, this friendly partnership other than the required moment of intimacy.

Wolfram hadn't been honest with Yuuri entirely. That thought shamed him. He had to tell Yuuri the truth. He hoped that Yuuri wouldn't be upset that he waited till now to bring it up.

Not that Wolfram could ever imagine Yuuri being angry. Yuuri usually got sad when he was disappointed or slightly annoyed, but never truly angry. It was only when Yuuri's Maou nature emerged that such strong negative emotions were revealed. Then it wasn't just anger; then it was bald fury. Wolfram was more worried about Yuuri being disappointed in him and after Yuuri just told him how much his honesty meant to him, he felt like a traitor.

"I didn't know about Zemaria, or that us getting married was a possible solution until you did," Wolfram burst out.

_They don't tell me everything either, Yuuri._

It dawned on Wolfram then that the reason why his brothers didn't tell him everything was because they knew he'd tell Yuuri. Perhaps they were also afraid that Yuuri couldn't handle all the responsibility. They probably didn't think he was ready. But Wolfram _knew _better.

Yuuri was a wimp. Was fairly pathetic in a battle without the Maou spirit. Hopelessly naive, and trusts people way too easily. Yet Yuuri _knew_ how to be King. If his brothers let him be, Yuuri would be a great and honourable one. Besides, Wolfram would always be around to ensure his wimpiness didn't drag them into disaster.

"Yeah I know," Yuuri replied. "Well, I didn't know at first, but when Gwendal told me that the best way to avoid conflict was for us to marry, the look on your face, Wolfram. I knew that you were as stunned as I was."

Wolfram didn't dare take his eyes away from the clouds above. He couldn't hide the feelings that were provoked remembering when Brother had suggested that Yuuri marry him for political purposes. Wolfram had gotten better at hiding his feelings; it was after all crucial in Court politics. Yet when it came to those he loved the most, Wolfram was hopeless at concealing what he felt.

He blinked, his eyes becoming blurry as he felt Yuuri grab his hand and squeeze it slightly. Surprisingly Yuuri didn't let go.

"See, Wolf, this is why we have to work together. We're going to be partners now. I know your brothers mean well but you gotta help me work out how to make things work better. And," Yuuri continued softly. "If I give you as many rights and power as I can as Prince Consort, then it will be easier for us both."

Wolfram wasn't going to cry. He _wasn't_. Wolfram fought for control of his breathing.

"Well, we'll have to talk more about it later."

"Yeah," Yuuri replied. "We'll talk to Murata. Or Conrad. He's pretty easy to talk to with these matters."

Yuuri must have felt Wolfram tense so he didn't continue. Yuuri knew about the tension between himself and Conrad. It was hardly a secret. Yet the King did not know the entire story. After his whole speech about honesty, Wolfram felt bad that he couldn't tell...but some things were better left unsaid.

Wolfram didn't want to hurt Yuuri. Yuuri saw Conrad as a beloved brother much like his Shori. Wolfram was certain that's how Conrad wanted be seen as well, in some ways.

Some secrets were not his to tell, even if it involved the person Wolfram loved the most.

"So what did you want to say?" Yuuri asked. His hand was still in his and it felt good.

Oh, _Shinou_, this was going to be difficult. Wolfram took a deep breath.

"It's about our marriage," he began. Wolfram moistened his lips. His mouth was suddenly dry and he struggled a little with how he was going to continue. Damn it! He couldn't tell Yuuri this _without _looking at him. They were going to have sexual intercourse. If Wolfram couldn't look him in the eye when talking about it then how would he be when it came to sex?

Wolfram sat up slowly and gently removed Yuuri's hand from his. He looked down at the dark haired King still sprawled out on the ground. Yuuri's face reflected his trepidation and obvious nervousness.

Better just to say it.

"We have to consummate our marriage at least once," he burst out, forcing himself to not look away and to keep eye contact. Wolfram watched as understanding slowly dawned on Yuuri's features, followed by mild panic and fear, quickly chased by other emotions he could not identify.

"Consummation?" Yuuri asked, his voice clearly shaking.

Wolfram swallowed. His mouth was still dry and he resisted the urge to wipe his now damp palms on his jacket.

"Yes."

This time, Wolfram looked down, breaking eye contact. There was only so much he could see in Yuuri's eyes that wouldn't tear him up inside.

"Only once," Wolfram said, studying the grass carefully. "It's part of our custom. It used to be the way with all Aristocratic marriages, or any mazoku marriage but particularly Aristocratic. It's not common anymore. Royalty is the major exception."

Wolfram chose his next words with utmost care. "The consummation will be very important to the Aristocracy and our allies. If it doesn't happen, our marriage would be seen as void. I wanted to tell you as soon as possible. I just couldn't, Yuuri, not at the meeting. It was too...personal. I don't think my brothers wanted to tell you either." Wolfram fought for control of his breathing. "I know it's unfair; you should have known before you decided. _I'm so sorry_."

The pleading in his voice was raw with emotion.

"No it's okay," Yuuri responded distantly, still sounding shocked. "I should know now with all your mazoku customs that there might have been something more." Yuuri took a deep breath. "We're both men...does consummation...does it mean we have to...?"

"Yuuri, if it bothers you so much, we don't have to marry. We can find another way. You don't even have to marry me. Gwendal has a female cousin of age..." From somewhere outside, he calmly noted how panicked he sounded.

_Great way to reassure the King, Wolfram! Nice one_.

"I'd rather marry you, Wolfram," Yuuri interrupted him. "If there is going to be anyone...I...I trust you. I don't think there is going to be any other solution. Gwendal was right. If we are going to gain the trust and faith of our allies and the people, I need to show that I have ties to Shin Makoku. And...you're...it's the best solution. Us marrying."

Yuuri patted Wolfram's knee awkwardly.

After a moment Wolfram answered Yuuri's original question. "Consummation requires there be copulation, penetration. I've had some experience, so it's fine if you want to take me. In fact, it's traditional. You're the King and you have higher status."

_I will always protect love and obey you. I am yours, Yuuri._

Part of what he said got Yuuri's attention. Still sounding shaken, Yuuri's tone was now tinged with curiosity. "You got experience?"

"Yes." Yuuri deserved utter honesty. "I've had two lovers before I met you. One was casual. The other a little more serious."

"I never really thought of you...having sex," Yuuri admitted. "I _mean_," he added a little awkwardly. "You're so proper and formal, Wolf. I always thought you'd wait until marriage."

Despite the seriousness of their discussion Wolfram found himself huffing a little at Yuuri's idea. Wolfram wasn't a delicate prim virgin.

"I never intended to marry," he confessed, then added, "There is nothing wrong with someone of my station having sex. As long as I'm discrete and I pick my partners carefully."

"Were they girls or boys?" Yuuri asked.

Wolfram gained the courage to look at Yuuri again. The question was sincere though Yuuri's face was still pale. What was it with Yuuri's constant obsession with gender? Wolfram didn't think he would ever understand that.

"Both were boys."

Well one had been much older, a man. Wolfram had been of age, since he was in his sixties, so he was a man, an adult. To Yuuri, being raised amongst humans, Wolfram knew he still looked like a teenager. It didn't annoy Wolfram as much as it used to. When it mattered, Yuuri acknowledged his experience...mostly.

"Oh!" said Yuuri his wide-eyed look brought Wolfram back to when Yuuri first came to Shin Makoku. Then, Yuuri had been so very innocent, and in some ways he still was.

There was silence for a time. It was obvious that Yuuri was trying to come up with something to say, though he was still pale and shaken. Part of him wished that Yuuri was the type to yell or get angry. But Yuuri never blamed others, even if they did wrong him. Now, Yuuri had perfect right to be angry with him.

"But how does anyone know if we have sex? Can't we just say we did?" asked Yuuri.

"No," Wolfram replied adamantly. "It's Ulrike who declares the truth of the consummation. Her word is enough."

"She _watches_?" Yuuri squeaked out.

"Oh, Shinou _no_," Wolfram answered with a shudder. "She can tell. She can read people's auras. When there is sexual intercourse, it changes the aura. I don't know more than that. After three months, we will visit her along with some witnesses. Ulrike will see the truth and declare our marriage true or null if she cannot see it." He added, "It is then that our union will be endorsed formally and witnessed by the Aristocrats, three at the minimum, and any of our allies who request attendance."

It would have been nice to keep the spectators to Voltaire, Christ, and perhaps Karbelnikoff, for such a sensitive matter to be kept with those that Yuuri liked and trusted. Yet politically, they needed the representatives from the other factions and he couldn't imagine keeping Waltorana von Bielefeld away anyway. As much as the thought of his Uncle giving him knowing looks during the ritual would disgust him, it had to be borne.

There was some silence while Yuuri processed all that Wolfram had told him. A slight frown marring his face, Yuuri gazed up at the sky.

Wolfram forced his mind into blankness while he pulled grass out and wrapped their blades around his fingers, his legs folded beneath him.

"Why would there have to be penetration?" This question put Wolfram off guard. Yuuri's tone was oddly flat but calm

"Who knows?" Wolfram shrugged. "That's how it's always been. You'd have to ask Ulrike or the Great Sage. There is probably some symbolic reasoning."

Wolfram had never really thought about it before. It had always been an academic question until now. Wolfram never thought he'd marry a monarch.

There was further silence as Yuuri digested this.

"I don't...I don't know, Wolfram...I can't. The way I feel for you, it's not, I don't..." Wolfram's heart sank at Yuuri's obvious distress as the King continued, "I know, we will...it _will _have to happen, Wolf, but..."

Yuuri clenched his fists and closed his eyes.

"It's fine, Yuuri. There are ways of making this easier. Some wine will help calm things down, then you can take me. It only has to be once and you won't ever have to think about it again."

Or talk about it. Wolfram placed his hand over his heart. His chest was hurting. Before he'd fallen in love with Yuuri, he'd scoffed at those romances where heartbreak was described as physical pain. But he knew better now. It hurt so _much_.

A small part of him had been hoping that their marriage and consummation would be a chance for their relationship to change, for Yuuri to realise that he wanted Wolfram. Such a foolish, naive fantasy. If Yuuri wasn't attracted to him before, he wasn't going to be attracted to him after they'd had intercourse. That was the plain truth. Wolfram ruthlessly killed any hope he had left. This was his service to the King. This was duty. He would do what was required. Hell, he'd wear a dress if it got Yuuri in the right mood. Wolfram only had to get him physically excited and the rest would follow.

"What if I wanted you to...what if I wanted you to take me?" Yuuri asked. "Would it work that way?"

Wolfram looked up at Yuuri in surprise. The grass blades fell from his hands, forgotten. Yuuri still looked nervous; he was biting his lip.

Yuuri got up on his elbows to better look at Wolfram. Why would he ask such a thing? It didn't seem to appeal to him anymore than Wolfram's original suggestion.

"It's the same. It doesn't matter who...how it happens. Just as long as there is penetration, but _Yuuri_, it will be much easier this way."

Yuuri would find it easy to deny the experience and it would be less painful.

"When you had sex with men, did you take them...or the other way around?" Yuuri asked, his tone curiously neutral.

"I was always on top." Wolfram always preferred it that way. He liked to be in control and as much as Wolfram liked the men he had been with, he never trusted them enough to ever give up that control. "But with you, I _want it_ to be this way. It will be easier." He locked eyes with Yuuri, willing him to accept this. To try to make the best of the situation, for the sake of the Kingdom and for Yuuri himself.

"No," Yuuri answered, averting his eyes, his face flushing. Yuuri spoke quietly, but Wolfram knew that tone of determination. It was his 'this-is-how-it-will-be-and-there-will-be-no-argument' voice he usually only got when the Maou spirit took control. "It's better if you take me. You've done it before. You know what you're doing. It's better this way." Yuuri opened his mouth as if to say something more, but seemed to think better of it and repeated, "It's just _better_ this way."

Wolfram found himself nodding. He had a nagging feeling he was missing something obvious.

"If that is what you want, Yuuri," he agreed gently. Except, Wolfram was determined to convince Yuuri otherwise when the time came.

After that, there was nothing more to say. Yuuri became still, quiet and withdrawn. That nagging feeling Wolfram had, that he had missed something, persisted. Something between them had changed and not in a way that was obvious.

Perhaps Wolfram had said something wrong. Perhaps he should have told Yuuri earlier, even if it was at the meeting with his brothers. His mind went around in a furious circle, thinking of all the ways he could have better handled the situation, his fingers once again pulling grass out of the ground ruthlessly in agitation. Yet his face was deliberately blank so as not to upset Yuuri even more.

Despite what Wolfram had told him, Yuuri didn't seem in any rush to get back to the castle. So he sat with Yuuri and continued to play with the grass. The distant neighs of the horses down the hill and the cool breeze rustling the leaves on the Sacred Tree were the only sounds he heard for a while.

"I thought," Yuuri said to him very quietly about half an hour later, so quietly that Wolfram had to strain to hear, "That it would be the same with us. Nothing would change. But...it will be the same again...right?" Yuuri turned his eyes on him for a moment, so sad and hopeful.

"Of course it will," Wolfram said in a gentle tone, desperate to reassure Yuuri.

Yet Wolfram couldn't help but feel, with how forcefully cheerful he had sounded just then, that Yuuri wasn't the only one he was trying to convince.

* * *

Greta watched from the window as Papa Wolfram and Yuuri returned from their ride. She was hoping that the outing would have relaxed Papa, but from his posture and what she could see of his features, he seemed as stressed as he was went he left that morning. Yuuri looked glum as Papa stiffly offered to help Yuuri down from Ao. After all these years, he should know that Yuuri hated that, but he never stopped trying. Wolfram was rebuffed, much more than usual, though Greta could see Yuuri give Papa his standard reassuring smile as an apology after he got down.

She sighed. She didn't know quite what to do about her fathers. She wanted them to be happy. Why did Yuuri want to marry if he really didn't love Papa?

Of course Yuuri loved Papa, but he wasn't _in love_ with him...not the way she could feel about Michael.

Oh _Michael_. He was so much unlike the other Aristocrats and minor Nobles who visited or worked in the Castle. Of course, as Papa's second in command, he had to be respectful and polite to her. Papa would expect no less. But even under that politeness, she picked up no coolness beneath. As much as Yuuri had tried to lessen mazoku-human tensions, humans were still mistrusted and looked down upon. Quite a few Aristocrats didn't like the fact that the King's adopted daughter was a full-blooded human.

Most of the servants didn't care, and a lot of Yuuri's closest friends who she considered family – Gwendal, Anissina, Conrad, and Gisela among others – didn't either. But Greta wasn't entirely stupid. She noticed the disapproving looks and how painfully polite the Aristocrats would be with her, especially in front of her fathers. Afterwards, those same mazoku Nobles would ignore her if she came across them in the hallways alone, or worst, sneer and look down at her as if she was some detestable rodent.

Michael wasn't like that. He was interested in her and asked her questions about her life. She fingered the opal pendant on the silver necklace that Grandmama had brought her for her birthday. The gem could only be found on Earth and was unknown in this world.

Michael had noticed when she got this and complimented on how pretty it was. She sighed. Michael _was so gorgeous_, with his dark brown hair and pretty amber eyes. Plus, he treated her with kindness and respect.

Besides, Michael wasn't really _really_ old, like a lot of the soldiers and guards in the castle were. He was only sixty two, which in human years would make him a little older than her. Michael was so much more mature than any of the human boys she saw in town, or the silly human servant boys who worked in the gardens and stables. Michael took his job seriously and did it well. He had to because Papa had very high standards. Anissina told her that Papa had gone through three assistants in less than five years before Michael joined his squad.

She was knocked out of her thoughts when she spotted Michael down in the courtyard, talking to Papa Wolfram. He'd been put in charge of Papa's squad while they had been away for the morning.

Papa was yelling at Michael _again_ now that Yuuri had gone back inside.

Michael's submissive apologetic body language wasn't calming Papa down at all, and just when she thought poor Michael would get singed again, Papa threw his arms in the air and angrily shoved the reins of his horse into the arms of a hapless stable boy before storming inside. Papa didn't even bother to pet and talk to Blume as he usually did after a ride.

"Anissina," she called. "I'm just going outside for some fresh air. I'll be back in a moment." She ran down to the courtyard.

Michael was stroking Blume, looking irritated.

"Heh, Michael...I saw you from upstairs. Papa was wailing on you again?" Greta asked, the wind blowing more of her hair loose across her face. She brushed it back quickly with exasperation.

"Oh yes," Michael replied, his voice sounding flat and tired. "He doesn't seem to be happy with anything I do. The wedding can't come soon enough. We're all looking forward to when things can get back to normal." He indicated the other men wearing Wolfram's squad colours in the courtyard. "Your father can be a hard taskmaster but he's usually fair. This last week, he's been impossible."

Greta nodded sympathetically, secretly glad that Michael trusted her enough to let her know his concerns.

"I think he's pretty stressed. You know how he likes everything to be perfect, and this is the biggest event that the castle has seen in years." Even within mazoku years.

"Are the rumours true then?" Michael lowered his voice and moved closer to Greta. He wasn't that much taller, but Shinou, his eyes really were such a pretty amber colour. He touched her elbow lightly.

"What rumours?" she asked, forcing down a blush.

"That your fathers are marrying for political reasons?"

Oh _that_. That she had already heard; it was old news. Since she'd lived at the castle, Greta had heard rumours about the engagement being political as a way to keep the King close to the Voltaires and Spitzwegs. So the marriage rumours were just an update on an old chestnut.

Yet Greta did have new suspicions after overhearing Gwendal and Murata speak in the library. She had only caught the tail end of the conversation but Gwendal had said something about how the wedding would help the alliances with the human nations. She wanted to share this troubling news with Michael. He'd understand, but she didn't want Papa to be hurt more.

After living court life for years, she knew the power of rumours.

"I...of course not. Papa has always been a great help to Yuuri, and he loves him dearly."

Which was true. Greta didn't want to lie outright.

"I'm glad then." Michael smiled at her, a tad too brilliantly. Greta was certain he had noticed her hesitation.

"Lord Bielefeld does deserve some happiness and we all want the best for him."

"Oh!" she gasped, her palm touching her cheek ruefully. "I better get back to Anissina before she sends the maids after me. I'm helping with the invitations and we've only got a little time left to get them sorted. I'll see you around, perhaps?"

She gave Michael a hopeful look. In return, he gave her a little wave and she smiled and quickly dashed back inside.

Neither of them had noticed Yozak loitering in the corner, watching carefully.

* * *

Chapter updated March 2011, betaed by gkeeper21, all errors are mine.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Warnings:** Mature discussion of sex

**Summary:** It's the night before the wedding and Yuuri and Wolfram deal with their worries.

* * *

He found Yuuri hiding behind an old bookshelf which was covered with cobwebs and dust in the back of the royal treasury basement. There, the soon to be married King was sitting on a pile of rugs which had seen better days and clearly brooding while sucking lightly on the edge of his blue pendant, his fingers twirling in the chain. The only light came from a small glow ball which Yuuri had set up above. Yuuri's mazoku abilities had improved considerably.

"My goodness!" Murata adjusted his glasses. "I think that used to be in my bedroom once." He pointed to a centuries-old statue of a dragon that was lurking in the corner. With only one red jewelled eye glowing, the stone dragon reflected the cold light of the glow ball. Part of its face was missing, giving it an ominous appearance.

Yuuri eyed him and the dragon with disinterest. Murata sighed internally.

Sitting in the dark with old relics, surely not a good sign. He settled himself comfortably on some of the other rugs next to Yuuri, touching the glow ball lightly so it gave out more light.

"You've got half the castle looking for you, Shibuya. Your mother is in quite a state."

"Why?" Yuuri responded with forced indifference. He had stopped sucking on the pendant, but he was still wrapping his little finger around the chain, making him look for all the world like a four year old who was in a sulk, and not the King of the most powerful nation in the world.

Said King shrugged then added, "Aren't I supposed to be in seclusion for three days anyway? As per _your_ pre-marriage traditions."

Murata noted the use of 'your' which Shibuya only ever used when he was insecure or if he was extremely annoyed.

"Of course, but I think the seclusion was supposed to be in your personal chambers so your advisers could find you at short notice. The seclusion wasn't going to be enforced_ strictly_."

_And on account of the fact that you're, __oh, King__ and half of the world's leaders were now guests on the residence, and there were still a thousand and one things to be done before the ceremonies._

Murata gave Shibuya a pointed look of irritation. He didn't even know why he was bothering to lecture Shibuya on something he should already know.

"Well here I am. In seclusion. Thinking about the importance of marriage which is the right and proper thing to do," Yuuri said somewhat sarcastically.

Shibuya had picked up more sarcasm as he got older, he'd noticed. Not that Murata didn't appreciate sarcasm, but now it was just _annoying_.

"So how's that working for you?" Murata said in a dry, unimpressed tone.

Yuuri shrugged, apparently not willing to share his thoughts.

"Well, you're doing better than Lord Bielefeld. He's up at the Temple at the moment. Probably running up the walls as we speak. Doesn't take well to forced confinement, your fiancé," Murata said in mock cheerfulness.

If anything, this made Yuuri look even more depressed.

"Oh that reminds me. I got these from your older brother." Murata handed Yuuri a very modern Earth box wrapped in plastic. "Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, etcetera, etcetera." He patted Shibuya on the shoulder.

Condoms – it was one way of introducing the topic. As much as he was fairly tired of the roundabout way of getting Shibuya to open up, a _'So, let's talk about you and gay sex and in particular the gay sex you're going to have with your pretty fiancé'_' wasn't a conversational tactic Murata wanted to chance. Four thousand years of wisdom helped, and then there was simple common sense.

He watched Yuuri's expression go from despondent to exasperated then rapidly mortified as he read the writing on the box.

"I don't think I have to worry about getting pregnant and mazoku don't have STDs. So, I think this is fairly useless…uh, but thanks."

Shibuya handed the box back hastily as if it contained a poisonous insect.

" Au contraire, my friend," Murata replied in his best cheerful tone that would grate Shibuya the most when he was in _a mood_, like now_. _Well common sense didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. "While it's true there are no STDs – which I gotta say I missed in my couple of thousand years of life as a human, because syphilis, not fun." Murata waved the box around a bit and then gave it a loving pat. "But mazoku _love these_. I've been making quite a sale here. Shori's been quite the business genius."

Murata shot Shibuya a bright smile. It amused him to see Yuuri looking so outraged.

"You mean to tell me you've been using the powers that Shinou passed onto you to get condoms imported into Shin Makoku? And Shori's _been helping you?_" Shibuya's voice rose quite a bit at the end and he frowned at Murata and then asked, "Isn't that like, breaking some magical rule or something?"

Shibuya narrowed his eyes at him. "Why do mazoku need this, Murata? Günter briefed me _thoroughly_ on mazoku and human anatomy." Shibuya shuddered. "And I know for a fact that mazoku can control their own fertility. You're not selling it to the humans, are you?

Another thing that Murata had missed as a human – being able to suppress his fertility. After a few lifetimes, he'd found some holy men who could do it, but the process itself took decades of meditation. Murata lost that ability every time he was reborn. Not really worth it when there were other methods, abstinence being the best. But abstinence wasn't fun for someone who had a high libido.

"Well yes, you're right about that Shibuya, but no, I haven't been...well...I've sold them to a few humans. But mostly mazoku. Probably _not for long_." He said this in a mock plaintive voice. "Anissina's gotten wind of these and she's coming up with an idea of producing condoms here, using some agent from a local plant. _Don't ask_!" He warned before adding, "So there goes that monopoly."

Murata rushed through the last words, forestalling any further questions regarding his condom business. He didn't want to mention the sex toys either. He said instead, "And I wouldn't take _Lord von Christ's_ advice on sex too seriously, Shibuya. I've no doubt he's perfect with theory but he's not such a great expert with the practice."

Shibuya raised a questioning eyebrow at him, looking faintly horrified.

"Shibuya, he's taken a scholarly vow of chastity. Pretty rare these days. It's thought that such sacrifice will redirect the passion and focus onto study. Why do you think he wears white?"

Murata took the same vow himself once, but he didn't know if it really counted as he wasn't interested in sex in that lifetime. Not that he didn't have quite a passionate intellectual relationship with the archive master. He thought of Günter. It was funny how much Murata kept on running into the same souls in each lifetime. It was one of many things he missed so much in these thousands of years of reincarnation on Earth.

"Günter can't be celibate. He's like, _like_...always been into me." Shibuya looked appalled that he even had to say that out loud.

"Oh _absolutely,_" Murata agreed with a bright smile. "But just because he's celibate doesn't mean he doesn't think about sex, and you _are_ quite the prize, Shibuya. You're very cute."

Oh, it would never stop being fun teasing his naive friend. Shibuya was such a young soul.

"See!" Yuuri complained, ignoring Murata's last comment. "I've been here almost five years and I'm still learning things. I'm afraid I'm going to stuff up this wedding tomorrow and embarrass Wolfram in front of the entire court and half the world."

Yep, Shibuya was on full sulk-mode. Murata decided he wasn't going to indulge that and he handed back the box, placing it firmly in Shibuya's hands, deliberately redirecting the topic onto more practical matters.

"Condoms are very handy other than for birth control and disease prevention," Murata explained. "It helps with anal sex. Smooths things along and is much more hygienic." He appealed to Shibuya's Japanese love of cleanliness.

Shibuya stiffened to hear such honest talk about such details of intercourse.

"Trust me, Shibuya, this is something that will come quite in handy. They are lubricated and there are some extra lube satchels included. The lubrication in Shin Makoku is adequate but nothing beats mango-flavoured lube. And though you can't get pregnant and it's impossible for von Bielefeld to pass anything on to you, I think there is a fair chance as a half-human that you could get a urine infection from anal sex."

Murata didn't know that was strictly the case with Yuuri. The Maou spirit which was merged in his friend's soul was fairly effective with preventing all types of infections and bacteria that normal mazoku suffer. The Maou was essentially nature, the spirit of the land. But Murata didn't know how effective that would be for Shibuya. This was the first time the Maou was merged with a half-human, half-mazoku and the matter was completely outside of Murata's experience.

All things aside however, mango-flavoured lube is awesome.

Shibuya had winced when he mentioned an infection and he crossed his arms defensively.

"And I'm not sure you want to have a trip to Gisela to have that treated, but it's up to you."

Even with the still inadequate lighting of the glow ball, he could tell that Shibuya was flushing. Ah, such innocence was cute but also a little annoying at times. They sat in silence for a while. Murata figured it best to let Yuuri talk if he needed to. He'd brought up the subject – he didn't think prying was going to work for his virginal friend.

Murata wish he'd found time to bring up 'the talk' with Shibuya before, but there had been so much preparation and Lord von Voltaire needed everyone on full duties with the castle playing reception to the foreign dignitaries and all the Aristocrats.

Then there were the furious meetings between himself, Yozak, and Weller on security and following up on the possible leak before Yozak had to leave again. Yozak had found some circumstantial evidence that implicated von Bielefeld's second, Sir Michael Wagner. But without any proof, it was deemed wise not to mention it, though Anissina had been informed to keep an eye on Greta.

Only a few days ago, he had received a bird courier from Yozak saying that his lead had brought him – to Murata's surprise – to the Bielefeld Province and not Zemaria. This news was disquieting considering Sir Wagner's family was located in Bielefeld's province, very close to the border with the Rochfords, who were Bielefeld's closest ally in court politics.

Shibuya took a deep breath. Maybe, Murata thought, we can have some progress.

"It's just such a scary thing. Being with Wolfram this way," Shibuya said quietly. "You've had lots of experience right, with sex?"

Murata suppressed a grin. He replied matter-of-factly, "You could say that."

"So, is it easy to have sex with someone you don't love?" Yuuri's voice became even softer and Murata had to lean forward to hear what he had said. This didn't sound promising.

"Yes...and no. That's something I can't answer for you, Shibuya. It's different from person to person. I'm guessing this is why you're sitting down here brooding in the dark?"

Now that Shibuya had raised the topic Murata could afford to be blunt.

Shibuya nodded and if possible, he looked even more miserable For someone who was on the verge of adulthood, he seemed so very young.

"I love him. He's a great friend...but..." Yuuri shrugged.

"You're not attracted to him?" Murata guessed.

"Not really, no. I should be, shouldn't I?" Shibuya appeared confused as he said this, seemingly asking that question of himself, not Murata. Shibuya closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. "He's gorgeous and he's everything I _could_ imagine being in love with."

So this was how it was going to be. Murata felt supremely sad – sad for Yuuri who he'd grown up with in this life, and sad for the young blond mazoku who was most probably running grooves in the expensive rugs of the Temple guest quarters now. And this is where Murata had to pick his words carefully, balancing the needs of the Kingdom against the emotional well-being of the King and soon-to-be Consort.

"There are worst things to base a marriage on, Shibuya. It's always been the tradition, and it still is in large parts of Earth where marriage is arranged. The couple don't even know each other before their wedding. Romantic love, the ideal that's become quite popular ever since the renaissance, wasn't considered important or desirable in marriage. What you and Bielefeld have is a solid basis to build on – respect, trust, friendship. It's a good start."

A friendship like that was not to be taken lightly. Murata wished he could make Shibuya understand that. Such was the familiar frustration of vast experience. Watching everyone else blunder through their lives without seeing what they had. _Not that you can talk,_ _old fool_, Murata berated himself.

For a second he felt a sickening dissonance. Where Murata was looking at the world through two pairs of eyes – the Murata of this life and his soul which remembered everything of four thousand years. Murata hated the divide. It made him feel...tired.

"I feel bad. I know that Wolfram loves me. He loves me the same way my parents love each other, the way I always wanted-I love him. I do. I just wish there could be more. If it was anyone, _anyone_, it would be him!"

Yuuri's confused voice interrupted Murata's thoughts. Shibuya looked completely torn.

"Well perhaps that will happen in time," he reassured Shibuya. "Is that completely out of the question? You're so very young now and there are so many things happening. With so much happening, Shibuya, it can be hard to see things clearly."

Yuuri replied quickly without thought, "No, that's not it. It's not..." He stopped abruptly, then continued after a few beats, "I don't think time will make me love Wolfram more. I love him as much as I could possibly love him. I don't think I have anything more in me." Shibuya finished sadly, "I think, Murata...later on, I'll let him find his own way with someone else. It's not fair that he doesn't have someone to be with. Is that possible? I can't give him a divorce. I just..."

_That would be treason for Wolfram. But a divorce is against your nature isn't it, Shibuya?_

But Murata didn't say this.

"Come talk to me about that later, Shibuya. When the time is right I could help you and von Bielefeld work it out. But _now_ is not the time, and my advice-" Murata looked Shibuya sharply in the eyes, holding his gaze until he was sure the King could see how serious he was. "_Don't _ask Wolfram to consider it soon. Give it a couple of years."

Murata then added deliberately acting as it was an afterthought, when it was anything but, "And you, Shibuya? Do you think that you'd find someone else you could love? That you could _be with?_"

Murata intentionally repeated the same phrase Yuuri used. He watched carefully for the answer.

"No..._oh no_!" Shibuya protested, clearly surprised at such an idea. "Wolfram _is it_. If this marriage was a business partnership – which it is in a way – we're like co-leaders..._sort of_. Then I'd be happy. I love him; he's fun to be around." Shibuya paused, grinning wryly. "He's annoying sometimes, it's true. But I can't imagine being with anyone else. I even missed him when he moved out of my room." Shibuya paused again and laughed humourless. "I must sound horribly selfish? I want him but I don't want him."

Murata had to admit it _did_ sound selfish. Yet Shibuya's answer didn't disappoint him. It solidified the formless theory that had been lurking in the back of his conscious mind but he didn't want to continue with that conjecture until he had more information.

"We'll have to have sex as you know," Shibuya admitted carefully, not looking at Murata.

Murata kept silent, waiting for the young king to continue.

"Wolfram told me and then...he must have seen how much it freaked me out. He offered up Gwendal's cousin for me to marry and that thought...that thought _terrified_ me. All these years I've been engaged to Wolfram. The first couple of years, it freaked me out, but as time went on, it was like, I'd marry Wolfram...it's become a certainty. My certainty." Shibuya paused clearly thinking out loud. "That comforted me, that certainty. I know that sounds weird but I never really thought about sex or maybe," Yuuri laughed again in that humourless way with just a tad of self-loathing. "I never wanted to think about it."

"Ah... the intercourse requirement. I think it was Shinou who introduced the three month rule. When I last lived in Shin Makoku there wasn't anything of the sort."

It would fit his sick sense of humour to mess with such tiny inconsequential moments of the lives he ruled over, Murata thought.

"You know, Shibuya. Penetration isn't really the be all and end all of sex even though lots of cultures and people would say otherwise"

And Shin Makoku culture was one of them. Though nowhere near as bad as on Earth, Murata had to admit.

Shibuya gave him a doubtful look. He asked, "Well then, why have it? I mean, what else is there?"

Murata gave Shibuya a long look, one brow raised. "There are other ways of giving someone pleasure without it involving penetrative sex," Murata replied mildly.

Shibuya's face went from dubious to thoughtful. Strangely, Murata didn't think that penetration was what frightened Yuuri, which was odd but it fit his theory.

"But Wolfram said that the marriage wouldn't be recognised until there was penetration and that Ulrike would know because of our aura," Yuuri protested.

"Well, see, that's not strictly the case. Well it is in _your_ case." Murata pointed at Shibuya. "Except it's more because of what von Bielefeld believes and maybe a little of what you believe. But in this case, what Lord von Bielefeld believes is _more_ important."

Murata could see he was confusing Yuuri somewhat.

"What do you mean, 'what Wolfram believes?'"

Murata grinned and added in a gentle voice, "To seal the marriage. To formalise it. It's more about what the person _believes _seals the marriage. For von Bielefeld it's likely penetration. It's a cultural thing for male mazoku and humans too. They believe that penetration, or being penetrated, is a way to make it official. It's mixed up with fertility and traditionally, even here, marriage is tied up with reproduction. At least, that's my theory with as much information I can find on pre-Maou history."

Murata paused. "That's what Bielefeld believes. It's significant for him, along with the vows you'll take tomorrow. That is how it will reflect on his aura. The outward face of a person's soul – their true feelings. Lord von Bielefeld won't believe he belongs to you or that you belong to him until that act takes place. The ceremony is just the preliminary, the beginning. But for you, Shibuya, I suspect it's that which is the most important. With how you've been raised, the marriage itself is bond enough."

"So that's how two women can get around the rule," Yuuri said with understanding.

_Exactly, Shibuya, now you're getting it._

"That's right, and some men as well. Not all men who are in love have or want penetrative sex. It's just a matter of preference. It's more popular with the mazoku I believe, more so with the aristocracy who hold with the old ways."

"So...how bout if I change the rules? I'm the King endorsed by the Maou spirit of the land. If I change the three month rule and say the marriage ceremony is sufficient..." Yuuri looked hopefully at Murata.

Murata gave Yuuri a veiled don't-be-stupid look. "I don't think so, Shibuya. Any other time – maybe. But how do you think it will look if just after you marry Lord Bielefeld, you remove the consummation rule?"

"Oh." Realisation dawned in the king's eyes.

"Exactly." He gave Shibuya a pointed look. "You'll in effect be stating, _very publically_, that you don't desire or want Lord von Bielefeld. I think we know how much he will deal with such public humiliation. Bielefeld doesn't deserve that and it would do nothing to appease your allies. I'd advise against it. Give it fifty years before introducing it, for the benefit of your successors."

"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense," Yuuri agreed hesitantly.

"However you work it, Shibuya, that's between you and Lord Bielefeld. But I'd highly recommend the condoms. You can't beat mango flavour!" He gave Yuuri a small smile. "If you need anyone to talk to, or have any questions about sex, come see me. Any time, I'm more than happy to listen and give advice."

Shibuya averted his eyes in embarrassment. But his friend had done well. Murata felt as if he had made a little progress. He stretched his arms out.

"Well, we better return before Lord von Voltaire orders a search party. Don't want everyone to think we've eloped." He laughed at Yuuri's horrified look. Clearly Shibuya wasn't privy to the maid's betting pool on who was doing who. Murata got up and offered his arm to help Shibuya up.

Yuuri shook his head, smiling weakly at him. "I'll be up shortly. I just need a little more time to think."

Murata nodded and turned to go.

"Umm, Murata...thanks for listening."

Murata gave Yuuri a genuine smile. "Anytime, Shibuya. That's what friends are for."

The light globe faded as the Great Sage exited the royal treasury basement, leaving the King alone with his thoughts.

* * *

When Conrad came to visit Wolfram at the Temple, he was indeed running grooves in the rugs, his thoughts in turmoil.

Twice that night, Wolfram found himself in the hallway, ready to sneak off and beg Yuuri to call off the wedding, to beg Yuuri to consider other options. But he knew each time how ill-considered it would be. Wolfram might be impulsive but he knew his duty and he knew how important the wedding was to the Kingdom.

B_esides_, a not-so-secret thought appeared in his head, _I do want to marry Yuuri_.

Wolfram wasn't surprised when Conrad appeared later, knocking lightly on the door, his half-brother still looking as miserable and guilty as he'd been for the last couple of months. It was a good thing that Yuuri had been too caught up in his own worries or else he'd have noticed. Conrad had been dreadful at hiding his feelings the last few weeks, which meant there was a great deal of inner-turmoil because Conrad was usually expert at hiding what he felt.

"I'm supposed to be in seclusion," Wolfram pointed out, his voice sharp and unkind. "How did you get past the shrine maidens?"

"I...sneaked in.." Conrad looked guilty.

Truly, he'd have to talk to Murata about the security of the temple. Granted, Weller was fairly good at getting into secure places – decades of hanging with Yozak had that affect – but this was ridiculous. There was no longer Shinou in residence to act as guard, and when Murata wasn't around to sense intruders, the Temple was vulnerable.

Wolfram sat down on the small bed, arms crossed. His entire body radiated hostility.

Conrad took that as his cue to enter the room and very tentatively sat down on the room's single chair. It wasn't often that Conrad chose to sit; he was much more comfortable standing, always ready for action. Perhaps it was Wolfram's prickly aura which had him rattled.

"So, this is the last night before the marriage?" Conrad said rather unnecessarily, "You must be nervous?"

Wolfram didn't think the question was worth answering.

Conrad looked tired and drawn.

_Well join the party. I haven't been sleeping well either._

"You look tired," Conrad added after a short awkward silence, almost as if he was reading Wolfram's thoughts.

"I am, but the maidens have given me some herbal relaxants. I was planning on taking them soon."

He had to at least get some sleep. Wolfram wanted to look his best – all eyes were to be upon him and such a performance would be exhausting enough without sleep deprivation.

"It's strange to think that you would get married before Gwendal and I, being the youngest."

Yet another pointless observation. Of course Gwendal couldn't get married. At least he was in a happy relationship, unlike Conrad.

"Whose fault is that?" Wolfram knew his tone was acidic, but he couldn't help himself.

"I couldn't marry Julia!" Conrad answered defensively. "She was betrothed to another."

_And she was never in love with you. _Wolfram thought bitterly but he felt sad that Conrad hadn't realised what he had meant.

"I _wasn't_ referring to Julia," Wolfram pointed out. "Yozak would have been happy to marry you at any time."

Conrad stiffened, his face becoming blank, his body utterly still. Why must they hurt each other this way? Wolfram had become weary of it but wasn't ever able to stop himself.

He knew that Conrad would never respond to what he'd said. Not for the first time, Wolfram wondered if his brother had ever wanted a true relationship just like he'd not wanted one, years ago. Was his brother afraid like he had been? Was he terrified of being hurt? Up until Yuuri, he'd never understood how his brother could love someone who was beyond him. But now he was like Conrad, Wolfram thought bitterly.

_Pining away like some storybook Prince for someone else._

If Yuuri did develop feelings for his older brother, assuming Wolfram didn't kill him first, then Conrad would be heading for the hills. Yuuri was Conrad's unattainable love. A symbol of white Julia, and while Conrad did love and respect Yuuri for who he was, he still wasn't able to let go. But tonight, tonight Wolfram refused to let himself be drawn into his brother's issues. Wolfram had plenty of his own to worry about.

"For what it's worth," Conrad said raising his eyes so that Wolfram could read the sincerity in them, "I wish you and His Majesty happiness. I've always wanted what's best for you, Wolfram."

Whether this was _really_ best for Wolfram remained unspoken.

"Thank you," he replied somewhat stiffly. "I probably should be getting some rest."

Wolfram knew he wasn't in any way subtle with his desire for his brother to leave. Conrad looked like he wanted to say more but instead he nodded and turned to go.

"Sleep well, baby brother," he murmured just loud enough for Wolfram to hear.

Wolfram wouldn't be like Conrad. He wouldn't be afraid. He would love Yuuri so much that it would be enough for his heart. Yuuri would be kind and be his friend. His love would be enough for the two of them and it wouldn't matter. The doubts were still there, ready to crowd in when things became dark. But now Wolfram was certain.

* * *

Chapter updated March 2011, betaed by gkeeper21, all errors are mine.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

**Warnings:** Sexual content.

**Summary:** It's the night after the Wedding and Shin Makoku Nobility celebrates at the Castle, contains Murata/Yozak.

* * *

All things considered, the final ceremony, or the final ceremony for that day at least, had been a success. Everyone remembered their lines. The horses behaved themselves, crowd control went well and there were no attempts on the King's life. Which was always a positive thing as far as Murata was concerned.

Apart from the previous binding ceremony at the Temple, this was quite easily the most important part of the day – the formal banquet to celebrate the couple's union. An opportunity for the Aristocrats, diplomats, foreign heads of State and wealthy merchants to get together to meet, make deals, break deals, gossip, conspire and play the ever ongoing game of politics.

Far more importantly, it was a valuable opportunity for the King and the newly chosen Prince Consort to be seen, and for them to see important people. And _everyone_ was here to see _Prince_ Wolfram.

The Prince was now wearing his black outfit which he'd changed into just before the banquet. The style was intentionally similar to Shibuya's, but with blue edging, a cravat, and flattering thigh high black polished boots. Wolfram's signature white cravat was held in place with a blue sapphire encrusted brooch which would have cost a fortune.

The black outfit was quite a contrast to his fair complexion and blond hair, but it suited him, highlighting the delicate beauty he had inherited from Lady Cecilie. But the official Bielefeld blue wasn't entirely retired. Wolfram would continue wearing it on the field, although not as often as before. A Prince Consort could not afford to be placed in positions of danger. With the marriage, Bielefeld had sacrificed an active career in the cavalry. He'd still be involved with his squad, but the position would be far more ceremonial.

Murata wondered idly if Shibuya would ever realise this, but he doubted it. Shibuya was never much focused on military matters.

The Grande Hall certainly lived up to its name for the event. The walls had been scrubbed. The tapestries and rugs had been removed and returned clean in meticulous detail. The hall was lit in both regular flame and charmed elemental fire in various colours, predominantly blue and yellow to fit the aesthetics and etiquette as outlined by the ever particular Günter.

Lady Cecilie and Lord von Christ took great pains to decorate and impress so that no human in attendance could ever mistake this for anything other than a mazoku event, and no human could ever forget how magnificent it was. Befitting the world's greatest nation, Shin Makoku.

After five years of absolute peace, the nation had benefited economically. Between the end of the Great War and Shibuya's arrival, minor border skirmishes had been draining resources, but blessed by a fertile land and a peaceful King, the nation had recovered swiftly.

It was the alliance with nature which kept the nation powerful and kept the mazoku as strong element wielders with healthy extended lives. If they were to go down the path of industrialisation, like some of the human nations, like Earth, then they would be breaking the covenant with the elemental spirits. Abandoning the people to random chaos and nature's fury. Which is why Shin Makoku would never look like the technological world that Shibuya had willingly abandoned.

* * *

"Oh look at how beautiful Lord von Christ is," Beatrice said in breathless excitement to Greta.

Everybody said that about Günter, Greta thought. But she could never see it. Perhaps it was because Greta had known him since she was little and she always saw the melodramatic tutor as family. Or more like an Uncle.

"You know you wouldn't have much luck with him," said Greta, trying to suppress her unfair irritation at her friend's dizzy excitement. Günter was way out of bounds. Even if Beatrice wasn't human, and even if he hadn't had a vow of celibacy, it was obvious he wasn't interested in women at all.

"I know. Such a _waste_," her friend replied plaintively.

This was the first event that Greta was able to attend as an adult. Well, almost-adult. Anissina and Grandmama were keeping an eye on what she and Beatrice were drinking and who they were talking to. Greta could have done without the lecture Anissina had given her earlier about how she was a Princess and her conduct reflected on her father and that there are going to be a lot of very important people here. Of _course_ she knew this. She wasn't ten anymore, but everyone still wanted to lecture her as if she was.

Greta sighed, but she was enjoying herself. It was fun to spend time with Beatrice, a trusted friend who she saw so rarely. Not only that, but this was the first true opportunity Greta had to wear her tiara, along with a lovely pink dress, accessorised by the pink diamonds that Celi had given her. She only wished that there would be dancing, but it wasn't the tradition for a formal banquet.

In three months' time, when Papa was formally recognised as Prince Consort, there would be a State Ball to celebrate, with plenty of dancing. Greta screwed her nose at the memory of Anissina explaining this to her, in way _too much_ detail why it was that there was a three month period before Papa was formalised. She didn't want to think about her parents in _that_ way. At all. _Ever._

"Oh look." Beatrice grabbed her hand and started dragging her across the room. "Let's go talk to your Uncle Shori. I heard he hasn't taken a wife or husband yet and he's_ gorgeous._"

Greta had to agree with Beatrice with this. Though it made her feel a little strange, because it was _her _Uncle, she had hardly seen him over the years. Greta had noticed how handsome he was, and much older and sophisticated. Shori was currently talking to some minor Noble Lady.

"Shortly," she agreed, holding Beatrice back. "We'll wait until he's finished. We wouldn't want to barge in. We have lots of time anyway. He won't be leaving for another week."

Beatrice all but squealed in delight at that and did a little hop of happiness. Beatrice's country was much less sophisticated, and they didn't usually get to have such great festivities such as this, as Beatrice had recalled from the time she visited a few years ago. But everything about tonight was perfect, well, except for one thing.

"It's a shame Michael can't be here," Beatrice said in a soft sympathetic tone.

"It can't be helped," she replied steadily. "He's part of the security detail."

Greta did wish Michael could have attended; it had been difficult to get time to talk with him over the last couple of months. If he wasn't working or busy with preparations, she'd either get called back on another chore by Anissina, or need to attend lessons with Günter. She would be glad when things settled down and she could see Michael more often. Maybe he could attend the ball. Her mind was full of visions of dancing with him in the blue ball gown that Papa had commissioned just for the event.

"There are plenty of cute men here. And some really lovely women," Beatrice said, trying to cheer her up. "Though I can't believe you made me talk to the Great Sage; he's terribly intimidating." Beatrice randomly changed the topic. "Back home they say he can talk to the dead and he's a powerful black wizard. Yet he's also very cute."

Okay, maybe not such a subject change. Beatrice, thought Greta, was absolutely boy crazy. And just like Greta couldn't see why everyone thought Günter was gorgeous, she couldn't get why people were so afraid of Murata. He was always so much fun to talk to and he knew almost everything about anything that went on in the castle.

"I don't think he can talk to the dead. He is really nice and interesting," she answered but Greta doubted her friend had heard her. Shori was coming over to them now, probably noticing the eyes Beatrice had been giving him. Beatrice giggled and squeezed her hand.

* * *

Murata had seen many celebrations in his time, from two worlds, and even he was a little impressed. He could count on only one hand any event that he recalled that was just as powerful or as impressive.

After flirting with Lady Cecilie, gossiping with the high spirited Greta, discussing economics with Voltaire, giving advice to Lady Fluerin, exchanging pleasantries with numerous diplomats and a few Aristocrats and one very powerful trader, he retired to one corner to watch the proceedings.

Here he could watch the attendees carefully, feeling that this was the best way to pick up information for the benefit of the king.

Even after being here for five years Murata wasn't entirely familiar with the dynamics of this court. Thankfully, Voltaire, Christ and Yozak had been useful in giving him a great deal of information so he was fast making up for lost time. It had been a little while since Murata had dabbled in politics but it was quite easy to fall back into the habit.

Now that he had so obviously withdrawn, no one dared approach him. He'd already done his diplomatic duty and he knew his reputation intimidated the mazoku and the deference rubbed off onto the humans.

Murata was the symbol of Shinou. In many ways the religious leader of the nation. Equal to the King in status, but above the reproach of any mazoku. The power he had could easily make or break the King, or any Aristocrat.

Many of the mazoku and a few of the Aristocrats had refused to believe Shinou had departed Shin Makoku. Since then, he had heard many rumours that he still communicated with Shin Makoku's God and enacted his will. Ulrike had never discouraged such faith, for she still believed that Shinou was watching. Murata was never sure how to take the High Priestess's conviction, even if it did help uphold his authority.

For all that, Murata was reluctant to exercise any of his influence. For one, he really didn't want the responsibility of ruling. That was the Maou's right, and he had a feeling that if he started to throw his power around, then the Aristocrats would quickly lose any awe of him. To find ways to undermine, or dispose of him. Murata's best way to help Shibuya was to give him the benefit of over four thousand years of experience. Besides, he had promised Shinou and he had always kept his word.

Conrad was right. Yuuri was the sun, bringing joy to the kingdom. Murata was his balance. The moon, the darkness. Ensuring the security of the Kingdom from the shadows. Before they were born, their spirits had been set to meet, thanks to Shinou, and if this was a fairy tale it would be him who was meant to marry the white King. Murata had always wondered in moments of reflection if that is what Shinou had tried to set up.

And yet, though Shinou could control so much – people's spirits, where they were born, and the absolute loyalty of the nation – Shinou could never control the heart. Murata was fond of Shibuya, but he never felt anything more. But sometimes, as he watched Wolfram, looking so calm and composed, even he could see no anxiety in his body language to show the inner turmoil that must be there. Murata wished that he was the one who could take Bielefeld's place. To save the blond Lord from heartbreak.

Murata could learn to love Yuuri, if not be _in _love. His advice to Shibuya the night before was sincere. Romantic love wasn't necessary for a successful marriage and he could please him well enough. He'd had to deal with worse over the centuries, but then Yuuri had to accidentally propose to Bielefeld and things had turned out very differently.

Murata pulled himself out of his idle fancies to watch as Shibuya and Prince Wolfram formally received the Aristocrats. The King and Prince had already given formal greetings to foreign heads of State, including the infamous Zemarian King and his Queen.

Lord von Voltaire had been in secret meetings with the King yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, Murata hadn't been able to attend, caught up with Ulrike and Lord Weller with further never-ending security meetings. He would have liked to have seen Voltaire in his menacing glory as he intimidated the foreign King into accepting the new terms of the alliance. King Octavus had got his wedding and Voltaire would ensure that Shin Makoku would be amply rewarded in turn.

At this moment, Shibuya was being introduced to Lord Lothor Rochford, a relatively young Noble who'd only taken over the family a few years before the end of the Great War. Only recently in mazoku time. He was a handsome man, long chestnut hair braided with ribbons of his house colours, eyes a deep blue.

The Rochfords were one of the oldest families of the Aristocracy – only surpassed by the Voltaires and Bielefelds by a few centuries – and very proud of it from what Murata had heard.

This was only the second time Lord von Rochford had 'deigned' to visit the King. The first time was his ordination. He had heard from Yozak that Rochford had been entirely unimpressed by Shibuya, particularly at the untimely departure of the King when he had been sucked back to Earth, leaving the unfortunate Lord von Voltaire to give explanations to the assembled Aristocrats.

The Rochfords were very wealthy and this was all due to Lothor's work. Apparently, they had been in debt when his father had died. Rumours indicated that he had a drinking problem and his addiction had led him to neglect the land. And with half of the workers recruited for the war effort, Rochford Province had done worse than most. But after his death, the young Lord had turned things around, creating a smelting plant to forge weapons for the war. Instead of causing their Province woe, the war had provided much needed income.

So successful was their endeavours that the Rochfords had gone on to sell their weapons abroad, as well as providing them to Shin Makoku defence. Apart from the tragic death of his younger brother in a riding accident, Lord Rochford and his Province had been blessed by much good fortune. Voltaire had informed him that Lord Rochford had skirted close to the ban on high industrialisation and had been given a warning when he had caused pollution to one of their rivers near the smelting plant.

Lord von Rochford's innovation was in stark contradiction to his political affiliations, where he was allied quite strongly to the Conservatives. It was Bielefeld's help (before relations with Wolfram's uncle had turned sour later on) that they had managed to curb Rochford's ways. As a way around, Lord von Rochford exported his factories to the human nations, doing better with cheap human labour and sending his weapons experts to oversee foreign operations.

They were a family that Voltaire had kept a keen eye on, with Yozak having quite a few good men stationed within the household. Yet so far, it seemed that despite Lord Rochford's quite public disdain of the King, he was very much a loyalist and nothing their spy network could uncover would say otherwise. Still, Murata instinctively distrusted the man and his intuition had never failed him before. Leaving those thoughts behind, Murata went on to observe Prince Wolfram's demeanour.

Prince Wolfram's manner and etiquette with the introductions amid the Aristocrats were impeccable. The way he directed Yuuri, with signals and brief touches of the hand, was perfect. Anyone other than the inner circle would think that it was Shibuya leading entirely. And the King was doing quite well, only needing Prince Wolfram's cues occasionally. His surreptitious touches were not just giving direction, but keeping Shibuya grounded and calm.

Even before the wedding announcement and preparation, the Prince had been on hand to help the King with diplomatic and public court matters and devising an informal signing code. After the announcement they had put together a formal system of signals whereby Prince Wolfram could pass on instructions without being obvious. Right now the slight touch to the elbow was the Prince's way of telling Shibuya to move on, that another guest was to be attended to. With perfect precision, the King nodded and politely dismissed them and then moved onto the next guest.

In private, or as private as they could be, Prince Wolfram was always quick to berate the King for his idiocy. It was Bielefeld's way of showing concern. Yet publically he remained completely professional, always deferring to the King. The epitome of a perfect Aristocratic gentleman, loyal servant of the King, and now Loyal Consort.

"The little brat's doing well."

Murata was momentarily startled. Yozak, dressed in the outfit of a minor noble with a fake moustache concealing his features, came up behind him, holding two glasses of wine.

"You made it back for the wedding," Murata responded. The moustache didn't suit the spy, he thought. But the bright blue clothes looked nice; they matched his eyes. Yozak handed him the other glass of wine.

Murata lifted his eyebrow at this.

"I'm not on duty and I think your job is finished for the day." Yozak grinned cheerfully as he sipped out of the delicate glass. "Sadly, I missed the great event. Only got back a few hours ago. I've been taking the opportunity to scout around the hall. I also found out some interesting information from Bielefeld Province." Yozak frowned and shook his head. "But it can wait for tomorrow. I see the Captain's doing excellent security." Yozak nodded towards one end of the hall.

Lord Weller, clad in a dress uniform, was carefully monitoring the event. His men were stationed across the room, along with those recruited from other households, being as inconspicuous as possible. At least a quarter of the servants also doubled as security personnel. Soldiers undercover. Weapons hidden on their bodies, ready for action at short notice.

"Yes, so far it's been uneventful," Murata said, taking a small taste of the white wine.

It was heady stuff. He'd only started to drink recently, and just like Shibuya he wasn't quite used to it. It was rather embarrassing that someone like young Bielefeld could easily drink him under the table. Though Yozak could probably outdrink anyone here and still be alert enough to fight if needed.

"Uneventful is good. There is plenty of celebration down in the city. This is a good time for the people. Gives them confidence peace will continue. Too bad we can't go down there and have fun. It's a little stuffy here." Yozak shot a flirtatious little smile at him. "But maybe a little later, when the newly married couple leave, we can come back to my suite for our own little party. It would save you a trip back to the Temple tonight and as an expert, I'd suggest it would be bad to spread our security too thin." Yozak smiled, referring to the security detail that Murata had to escort him back later.

Lord Weller was not taking any chances with anything and the safety of the Great Sage was not a small matter.

That, thought Murata, was a definite proposition. He'd been back to Yozak's rooms before for chess, which he'd taught Yozak, or just for talk and pleasant company.

Yozak's small suite was in the eastern corner of the castle on the ground floor, out of the way of most of the castle's traffic. Something of a rarity for a commoner to get residence inside the castle, especially a half-human. But Yozak had earned it. His friendship with Lord Weller had opened the door but Yozak had made the most of the opportunity - not that he's friendship with the Captain had been one of ambition (that was genuine).

Yozak's suite, although small, was nice. Comfortably furnished with items that he'd pilfered from the treasury basement and interesting articles Yozak had collected in the human nations.

What the hell. Murata liked Yozak and his body agreed. He deliberately ignored all the reasons why this would be a bad idea. Loneliness was eating away at him, taking its toll. Though, he thought sadly, Yozak was lonely too.

"That sounds like a plan," he responded, deliberately looking up at the spy through his eyelashes. Giving his best coy, flirtatious look.

Yozak faltered slightly. He obviously thought that Murata would hold out a little longer, or perhaps never give way. For a moment, the spy seemed hesitant, then he returned the grin.

Yozak opened his mouth to say something when their banter was interrupted by a loud disagreement.

"How dare you spread such false rumours!"

This was said angrily by Lord Waltorana von Bielefeld who was standing nearer to the King and Prince. The elder Bielefeld's face was red in rage. His hand on his sword. With one arm, Lord von Bielefeld grabbed a knife and flung it down at the feet of the man he was accusing.

"That's Lord Lothor Rochford," Yozak commented in surprise. "Why would Lord von Bielefeld have a beef with him?" He exchanged a concerned look with Murata.

Murata had no idea. Bielefeld and Rochford were both close allies and friends. Yozak shoved his flute glass at him, readying himself to go over if needed. But he'd noticed that Lord Weller was already on his way.

"Don't." Murata gently restrained the spy. "You don't want to break your cover yet; Weller has it in hand." Thankfully nobody would notice their odd exchange; all attention was now diverted to the loud confrontation.

"I have no idea of what you speak. Perhaps you would like to share your allegations with everyone here and let them decide," Rochford replied. It was clearly a threat. His tone was deceptively even but it carried well in the now silent hall. Murata did not like the look in his eyes, but Rochford had not gone for the knife as yet.

This response flustered Lord von Bielefeld but before he could respond, Shibuya came between them, Weller and Prince Wolfram shortly behind but hanging back in uncertainty. Murata could see why. Shibuya was almost in Maou mode, his bearing terrible and commanding.

"How _dare_ you bring violence and anger to this happy occasion," his voice boomed across the room. No-one dared move. Murata noticed the faint blue of the elemental spirit surrounding the King, but Shibuya was still in control, though barely. The image terrified the older Bielefeld. Rochford lowered his head in deference yet his stance in comparison was defiant.

"On this night, I do not care to hear the squabbles of my subjects. Come to me later if you have issues. Tonight I will not tolerate such disrespect. I want you out of this hall _now!" _With the stress on the last word, his blue aura brightened visibly. Yet it was still Shibuya in charge.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now," Lord Waltorana von Bielefeld stuttered out before turning and all but fleeing the scene.

"I am sorry as well, Your Majesty," Rochford calmly replied, his eyes finally meeting the King's. Shibuya's eyes narrowed in rage at him.

_Good_, Murata thought, _he doesn't fool you one bit, Shibuya_. Whether that was the Maou sense bleeding through to the King, or Shibuya's common sense, he was glad of it. Murata somehow felt that Rochford was the one who instigated the confrontation.

"Then leave!" the King commanded, his voice was low but it was no less menacing.

With a bow Lord Lothor von Rochford departed.

"Well," Yozak murmured to him. Murata turned to the spy whose brow was creased in confusion. "This certainly brings more mystery to the information I found on my trip."

* * *

If asked, Yuuri would not have remembered what happened most of the day. Time had gone by in a haze of fear and anxiety. Fear that he'd do something wrong and the stage fright of being under the scrutiny of the entire nation. He remembered his mother clinging to him in happy tears, his father looking proud and nervous, and his brother looking both serious and amused.

Yuuri remembered with intense clarity when they bound his left hand together with Wolfram's right with a bright red and yellow cloth. For twenty minutes they recited their vows, their backs to the crowd facing only Murata, Ulrike and two Shrine Maidens. Murata had given him a small smile.

Yuuri's hand had been shaking and then Wolfram had given it a gentle squeeze, despite the fact that Wolfram was shaking as well. It was at that point that he had fought a sudden desire then to hug Wolfram to him and bury his head in the crook of his neck, To pretend that there was nobody there but them. To be away from all these people and just be with Wolfram. Instead, he had closed his eyes briefly and recalled that day on the hill, looking up at the sky, the clouds going overhead and gently teasing Wolfram, and he found it within him to go on. The anxiety that was threatening to overwhelm washed away.

He could not remember the trip to the castle – being in the carriage or even walking into the castle – but he remembered the crowds below as they went up to wave to the public on the balcony. He remembered Conrad giving him an encouraging back rub just before he had to receive the first foreign dignitaries and aristocrats. He remembered the dispute between Lothor and Waltorana and intervening in that. And he remembered Günter whispering that it was time for them to leave, along with the light hearted whoops of the crowd.

For this was his wedding night.

Now he was standing in the middle of his bedchamber which the house maids had strewn with pink petals from some flower that grew in the gardens. The aroma in the room was like a cross between vanilla and jasmine. Just like that, the haze lifted. The world coming into sharp focus and everything suddenly made sense to him. Though he couldn't find it in himself to feel anything other than weariness and vague sadness.

Wolfram was sitting on the large bed looking so very small. He'd changed quickly while Yuuri had been briefed outside by Conrad on today's security and now his...husband was wearing a salmon coloured nightgown. Yuuri thought that's what his mother would call it. A pink in silk, no ribbons or lace this time. It looked soft. Yuuri wondered idly what the silk would feel like.

* * *

Murata entered the room with Yozak. The familiar trip down the hallways to Yozak's suite has been filled with fresh new tension. There had been a flurry of activity after Lord von Rochford and von Bielefeld's confrontation. Yozak trying to discover if anyone had heard anything but the queries had proved fruitless. After a quick meeting with Lord Weller, he'd returned and all but dragged him back to his suites.

The door closed firmly behind them. Murata removed his glasses to rub his eyes when Yozak took them from him, placing them delicately on a shelf close by.

Without warning, Yozak pushed him up against the door. Yozak's hands suddenly everywhere. He shuddered as Yozak took possession of his mouth in a forceful kiss but started laughing as the moustache tickled him, making strange gasping sounds muffled by lips against his. Yozak pulled back slightly, giving him a puzzled look. There was a faint shadow of hesitation in his eyes.

"Your moustache. You might want to remove it," he explained, raising one eyebrow in amusement as he fingered the disguise affectionately.

Yozak snorted and with one quick motion, ripped it off, slightly wincing. They both looked at each other and burst out laughing again. Oh yeah, the wine had definitely gone to his head. But Murata didn't mind one bit as Yozak once again moved in to continue their kiss. Slow at first, tentative, but the momentum returned as he moaned quietly in appreciation. Yozak pushed his thighs between his legs again, such a delicious pressure to his groin. Yozak's much broader frame against his, warm and welcoming.

Murata's body was on hormonal overdrive. Only ever experiencing the touch of his own hand in this life, he certainly wasn't complaining as Yozak slid his hands within his jacket with desperate roughness. The imprint of Yozak's fingers on his bare skin was hot. With a ripping sound, one button went flying, hitting the floor with a sharp cracking noise.

"Careful," Murata muttered without much force. Or he thought he said that as Yozak's tongue was half way down his throat, his other hand tugging his pony tail back so that Yozak could have access to his neck

Murata was pressed between Yozak and the solidity of the door behind him. The shrine maidens wouldn't be too impressed with repairing his outfit, but at this stage Murata was beyond caring.

They both disengaged for oxygen.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Yozak said breathlessly pushing their foreheads together with one long stuttering exhale.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he teased.

Yozak pounced.

* * *

Yuuri began to take off his robe and Wolfram was suddenly there with sure hands, helping him remove the buttons and clips.

"You don't have to," he protested feebly.

"Don't be silly, _wimp__. _This is an expensive good quality outfit. It's better if I help you."

Wolfram huffed in faux irritation. Yuuri didn't point out that he had managed to do this by himself for a couple of years. He sensed that Wolfram needed to assist him in this. Really, Yuuri was grateful to get the heavy robe and jewelled clip off his shoulders and it was a little nice being fussed over.

Yuuri must have zoned out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, he was standing in his undershirt and boxers and Wolfram was handing him his worn pyjamas.

He blushed and Wolfram turned away deliberately and got into the bed, _their_ _bed_, pulling the covers over him on his side facing away. He quickly changed into his pyjamas and slid under the covers on the other side, relishing the luxury of resting his back and the feel of soft clean sheets on his toes. It was a nice feeling after standing all day. Yuuri stretched.

The mattress dipped as Wolfram rolled over towards him. He suddenly realised what that could mean and froze as Wolfram lightly touched his shoulder.

"Lie on your stomach."

* * *

Somehow they managed to get to Yozak's worn four poster bed without too many mishaps. Murata only tripped once when he was trying to get out of his pants. Yozak caught him laughing and used the opportunity to squeeze his ass and roughly tug down his silk boxers at the same time.

There was a trail of discarded clothing littering the floor to the bed.

With a gentle push, Murata was on his back on the bed looking up into amused blue eyes.

* * *

"Lie on your stomach," Wolfram repeated when Yuuri failed to respond the first time.

"What?" he found his voice squeaking embarrassingly. Yuuri was dreading where this was heading.

"Don't worry," Wolf said gently. "I just want to give you a massage. I'd ask you to take your shirt off but I understand if you don't want to," he continued sincerely. "Nothing has to happen tonight."

Trust me, Wolfram's voice seemed to say. And Yuuri always did.

"Oh okay."

Yuuri had never accepted a massage from Wolfram before. When they had shared a room he'd felt a bit uncomfortable with letting another boy touch him in his bed, still caught up in Japanese social expectations. Eventually Wolfram stopped offering. He knew that the blond Lord was skilled at massage, he'd seen him do it on his men after training. Yuuri knew it was good for strained muscles and Wolfram took the health and welfare of the soldiers under his command seriously.

Yuuri forced himself to relax.

"It will be easier if I can straddle your upper legs. Is that all right?"Wolfram asked him softly.

"It's fine."

Yuuri hesitated only fractionally. Softly Wolfram sat himself astride Yuuri's legs, the pressure pushing his stomach a little into the mattress but not unpleasantly so.

"Let me know if this makes you uncomfortable," Wolfram asked again. It was almost scary to see Wolfram being so careful of his feelings.

His nervousness left as Wolfram started to massage his lower back, moving in small circles up his spine in smooth, rhythmic strokes, then circling around and back again to the small of his back. The warmth of Wolfram's hands through the cotton material was relaxing.

It was good. Wolf was good. And Yuuri was very tired. He fell asleep with the feel of soft gentle hands on him, the scent of jasmine and vanilla and Wolfram humming a nice melody which sounded almost familiar.

* * *

Yozak was naked. What a pleasing image that was to Murata. There was a lot to appreciate, generous muscle, nice biceps. So Murata took the time to _appreciate_ them with his hands. He caressed as much skin as he could as the spy plunged his tongue into Murata's mouth in a long kiss. One hand of the spy's curled in his hair almost possessively. Yozak's body was above him, knees straddling Murata's hips.

Yozak suddenly broke the kiss and gave him a cheeky smile before leaning down to plant butterfly kisses in a spiral down his neck, pausing to inhale his shoulder-length hair now free of its binding, then continuing the light kisses down his chest. His stomach. Further down to his groin.

By the time Yozak reached his destination, Murata was a shuddering wreck. The anticipation was sweet and when the spy lips touched him, it was even better. Yozak used both his hands to pin his hips down before Murata lost control of that struggle. There wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

It seemed Yozak wanted nothing more than to drive him over the edge first and Murata didn't mind at all. He closed his eyes. This time around, Murata's body was wired to find great satisfaction in a slow build up.

When consent was allowed and he was interested, it was always a delight to rediscover sexual pleasure with another person. It was different each time around.

The few minutes before orgasm when his body took over were always his favourite. It was one of the few times he could let his mind go. To stop thinking. To stop analysing. To stop _remembering_ and just be as his body was inundated with primal impulse.

He pulled his hands from where they were gripping the bedclothes to clutch the back of Yozak's head, eyes still shut to enhance the physical pleasure. The grip that Yozak had on his hips was frustrating and perfect, his back arching futilely as his hips were still pinned down.

This was so good. _So very good, no matter how many times... it was always so good._ Murata could hear Yozak humming in apparent approval and his last almost incoherent thought before pleasure tore through him was how he'd been chanting those thoughts aloud.

* * *

When Murata woke, dawn was just starting to brighten the room through the window. Everything was still the greys of first light and only just revealing the clutter of Yozak's suite. The castle was silent. No doubt people were still sleeping off their celebratory excesses and the guards were too far away for their sounds to carry.

He heard the lonely clip clop on the courtyard cobblestones of a horse, probably a solitary guest leaving early. The noise only emphasised the quiet. Despite being summer the morning was a bit too cool and he tried to pull the blankets over onto himself. He gave up on covering his legs when he realised Yozak was half tangled in the bedclothes.

Yozak was sleeping on his side on Murata's left, one arm and one leg flung across him and his face buried just under his arm.

The sight gave Murata a warm feeling. He gently ran his hands through Yozak's soft hair affectionately. He felt relaxed. It had been a pleasant way to lose his virginity. He snorted. As much as Murata could have called himself a virgin.

Yozak had been a playful and thoughtful lover. Murata found that he much preferred taking the lead physically, as much as Yozak preferred being dominated. The spy's passiveness was deceptive, for it was really Yozak who had been in control. He smiled as he recalled just how honest Yozak was in his desires and demands. He had thoroughly enjoyed making love with Yozak. It was easy and uncomplicated. Perhaps his fears of getting involved were unfounded.

He could imagine that if this ended in a relationship, it would be more fuelled by companionship, friendship and a mutual passion for play and cleverness, not like before. Certainly not the great soul-wrenching love affairs of his past lives. He shied away from the thought of another blue eyed lover; this was not the time for such.

Murata thought of Shibuya as he continued to pet Yozak. He wondered how his wedding night had gone. If it was anything like any of the weddings he could recall, Shibuya and Prince Wolfram probably stumbled into bed, grateful for sleep and quiet after days of diplomacy and ceremony.

State weddings were much more fun for the guests.

Murata closed his eyes, thinking of nothing in particular. Just enjoying the warmth and smell of his partner.

The strategy meeting would not be scheduled until after lunch to give the others time to rest. Plenty of time. Such a rare luxury these days.

He drowsed for another hour. In an odd waking dream where he was under the sacred tree with a book waiting patiently for Shinou.

"Wake up," Dream Shinou said with humour, just behind his ears, and before the Sage replied to scold him for his tardiness, his eyes snapped open. The dream dissipated.

He felt the familiar presence of another's essence nearby, recognising who it was before a key turned in the lock and the door opened.

Murata had no intention of pretence here, of feigning sleep. Yet he was glad that Yozak was sleeping and that the bedclothes covered them enough to ensure some modesty.

He could see the outline of Weller, still in his uniform. Murata put his fingers to his lips and the Captain stopped suddenly on the threshold, body meticulously still. The Captain took in the scene.

Murata wasn't sure if he was grateful or annoyed for his short sightedness for he could not see Weller's expression.

He looked the man in the eye, neither a challenge nor a plea. And just as quickly the Captain was gone. The door closed quietly, the lock clicking.

_That was quick_. Murata sighed. Yozak was still fast asleep.

The floor was scattered with their clothes, the room musty with the smell of sex, and Yozak's leg peeking out over his would leave no doubt as to what had happened between them.

_This __is__ going to be interesting__,_ Murata thought before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

* * *

Chapter updated April 2011, betaed by gkeeper21, all errors are mine.

Please see profile for progress. Any new concrit is welcomed. As of now the rest of the series is unbetaed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings:** M rated Violence, see below for more, it WILL contain spoilers.

**Summary:** Yuuri confronts Murata about honesty, and there are hints of Shinou's meddling.

**Notes:** See below after Chapter.

{++++

It was later then they originally scheduled when they got everyone together for the strategy meeting. With the Castle full of important guests it had kept everyone on their toes and Weller had spent most of the night on duty only retiring just after dawn, Murata assumed it was after his early visit to Yozak's suite.

He and the spy had shared the morning relaxing, Yozak waking him up for more love making then a peaceful breakfast of cold ham and cheese that Yozak had taken from the almost deserted kitchens. They then discussed Yozak's findings up in Bielefeld Province.

They made it out of Yozak's room mid-morning. Yozak to speak to von Voltaire and Weller about his trip, he himself had returned to the Temple to get changed, slipping in and out before the shrine maidens saw the state of his outfit. The guards assigned to him now tripled with the festivities, he would be glad when the visitors left and he could get back to his usual fuss free movements and routine.

So now they were all gathered in the strategy room, late afternoon shadows were already gathering, tiny dust motes dancing near the window. They were still waiting for von Christ who had been caught up in a meeting with Lady Cecilie and Dai Shimaron's ambassador. Lord von Voltaire was already drumming his fingers in impatience.

Murata took the opportunity to study the others around the table. Yozak was beside him, his thighs almost touching his in a way he was determined to ignore, his face a combination of both smug and bland as only the spymaster could pull off, he sat almost spineless sitting in the high backed chair, his hands folded casually across his chest. He'd told Yozak after some indecision about Weller's visit at dawn. Yozak had only nodded and added in a neutral voice that the Captain had a key to his rooms and he frequently visited to talk shop. Murata didn't pry although he wanted to.

In any case if Yozak had been upset by Weller discovering the nature of their relationship he wasn't showing it. Sitting on his other side was von Voltaire, his entire body radiating annoyance as he continued to rap the heavy oak table with his fingers. Opposite him was the Prince and Shibuya, looking well rested, especially Shibuya.

Wolfram was wearing black. It would take Murata a little while to get used to the look, though the black suit with blue edging was unchanged the accessories were different, the cravat a much simpler style, held in check by a gold chain, the blue sapphire brooch having been retired. Currently Prince Wolfram was stealing covert looks at Shibuya, his expression unusually hard to read, not noticing that Shibuya was doing the same thing.

The married couple had their hands clasped in front of them, the mirroring very much interested Murata and he was sure that the subtle body language was amusing the hell out of his...lover next to him, his mind came up with that descriptor. He smiled and glanced at Yozak who hadn't changed his expression.

Concentrating on the newlyweds auras he wasn't surprised to see that there hadn't been any intimacy. Part of him wished they could get it over and done with so that the marriage could be assured, any unresolved issues could be exploited easily by anyone observant enough who wished the King ill.

What did surprise him was how Shibuya's dark blue aura was almost encircling von Bielefeld's pure light blue, but not quite touching, almost as if he wanted in but was being held back by some unknown force or emotion. He'd have to ask Ulrike what she thought when she got the chance to observe the pair next time; she could see the spirit world much easier than any mazoku.

Lord Weller was standing behind his youngest brother, leaning against the wall as usual. He'd asked the Captain why it was that he hardly ever sat down and Weller had returned deadpan _'Someone has to keep the wall up,'_ but then had explained he did his best thinking on his feet and it was more comfortable for him because he could spring to action if anyone attacked. Thinking back at all the times that had happened Murata could find no fault in his logic.

Like Yozak Lord Weller had his arms folded against his chest, but unlike Yozak he didn't look in any way relaxed. Exhausted tension radiated off him. Anyone watching could see that he was carefully not looking at Murata or Yozak; it was obvious he had issues with finding Murata in Yozak's bed.

Eventually he would have to diffuse that tension, or try to. He could understand some of Conrad's issues, in the last twenty four hours he'd had the man he loved marry his little brother and found his ex-lover and closest childhood friend in bed with the second most powerful man in the Kingdom, it was a lot to take in, even Murata found the whole situation surreal.

Before Murata could think of anything to say to break the silence, von Christ entered dramatically his arms full of heavy tomes, impeccable hair a little out of place as he huffed. He'd probably run the length of the castle and up the spiral staircase to make it here.

"I'm so _sorry_, Your Majesty, I have failed you in my time management skills, I am a failure." He wailed.

"It's all right, Günter. Take a seat, calm down." Shibuya assured him, looking only a tad exasperated, von Bielefeld rolled his eyes and von Voltaire snorted.

"Oh, Your Majesty, you are so merciful and compassionate to such an incompetent subject such as myself." Said Günter and with a big thud he dropped the books on the table and sat down next to the Prince, much to Wolfram's obvious irritation. Even after all these years those two had only ever tolerated each other and Murata doubted that Shibuya's marriage to von Bielefeld would have improved the tutor's view of the little lord brat.

"Right!" von Voltaire practically growled, glaring at Günter as he pulled his quill and ink out and opened his meeting journal, von Christ was pretty much immune to Gwendal's glare and he smiled happily at Lord von Voltaire in high spirits, the wailing from before already forgotten.

"Now that everyone is here, Conrad will brief us quickly on security from last night, make sure to wait for any questions until after he has finished, afterwards Yozak will talk about his trip, he has information about the security breach." Both Shibuya and the Prince looked interested in that, Weller still carefully not looking at the spymaster. "After that we will discuss how we will proceed, with your Majesty's permission" he nodded at Shibuya.

"Yes go ahead, thanks, Gwendal," said Shibuya, shooting Gwendal a bright smile.

Günter was already furiously writing out the minutes.

Lord von Voltaire enjoyed chairing their meetings, making sure to keep the direction on track and to the point, and between von Christ and von Voltaire it worked well, it was apparent that they had worked together for years doing this.

Murata tried not to let his mind stray as Weller talked about the night's events, he was sure he wasn't the only one, after all everyone had been there and probably had spoken to Weller already. But it was important that Murata pay attention, for the slightest detail could be important, something he'd learnt a long time ago, nothing was too trivial or uninteresting to be entirely dismissed.

He was interested when Conrad got to the part about the kerfuffle between the elder Lord von Bielefeld and Lord von Rochford.

"I spoke to the men and women who I had on security and nobody heard what was said before things exploded. Whatever was said certainly got Bielefeld excited."

"I doubt that my uncle would have set out to embarrass me," the Prince added, ignoring the slight frown from his eldest brother for talking before von Voltaire announced the time for questions although it was apparent that the Captain had finished speaking.

"Have you managed to speak to your Uncle today?" He asked. "I know that you aren't on great terms with him at the moment," he added candidly, "But he is more likely to confide in you then the King."

Though he looked slightly annoyed Wolfram nodded, after all everyone knew about the strained relationship. "No, do you think it might help?"

"It couldn't hurt," this from Yozak. "But, Your Highness," he started, stumbling a little over the new title "I have a theory about what it could be, but confirmation from your Uncle would help."

Shibuya frowned at this "What theory?"

"This is from information that Yozak discovered up north," Gwendal cut in. "Yozak, could you tell us what you've discovered"

"Gladly, first I'll give you the short version. We've discovered who the spy is." He paused to let that information sink in.

Before he continued Murata thought it best to try and do a little damage control before the inevitable explosion.

"Both myself and Yozak have suspected who it was for a quite a while." He watched as the married couple frowned at that, Shibuya looking quite annoyed at being kept out of the loop.

"Shibuya, Prince Wolfram." He put his hand up to placate. "We decided to let nobody know the entirety of our suspicions except Lady Anissina, you'll find out exactly why later on." He forestalled the Prince's outraged question, "It was especially important that you two were not told, we didn't have concrete evidence and it was vital that this person be kept unaware he was under suspicion." He watched as Shibuya and the Prince exchanged a brief glance he could not read.

"It would have been harder to find out who he was passing the information onto and who else was involved, young man," Yozak continued. "And if this person was innocent it would have been unfair to him. I've only told the Captain last night and Lord von Voltaire this morning." He paused watching the room but nobody interjected although he could see that Prince Wolfram was simmering, interestingly enough Shibuya was not that much behind.

"Hopefully you'll understand why when you find out who it was," Murata put on his best mild diplomatic voice.

At that everyone looked at Yozak expectantly, although everyone knew apart from Shibuya and von Bielefeld and von Christ of course, who had been too busy for a debriefing that morning.

"We believe it's Vice-Captain Michael Wagner" Yozak said, his voice quiet and a little sad.

"What!"

-{

"What!"

Yuuri placed his hand gently on Wolfram's to calm him down. He might not be as magically sensitive as Wolfram outside of Maou mode, but he could feel the air around Wolfram crackling with built up power.

Furthermore he wasn't happy either. He regarded Murata slowly; both chilled and a bit impressed by how calm he appeared because even Yozak beside him looked nervous. He blinked, looking again at Yozak and Murata, had something changed? He dismissed the thought, now was not the time to get distracted.

"So where is Greta now?" That was the most important thing, the safety of his daughter. His voice held a quiet cool tone that only shook slightly, he tried his best to keep his voice even but he knew a little of the Maou had slipped by. He clamped down hard on it; he was getting better at controlling the elemental spirit, in his mind's eye the Maou was like a dark beast which he'd kept in place by a thick chain but every now and again he could hear the rattle of its chain.

"She's out with Lord Shori and Lady Beatrice with some of my men," this from Conrad.

"Sir Michael Wagner is at his barracks," Yozak added. "Sleeping after his duties tonight, I've kept him monitored at all times."

"What evidence do you have against Wagner?" Wolfram asked his voice strident. Yuuri winced internally, Wolfram had a high regard for his men and he did not deal with betrayal well. Of course, he dealt less well when those held dear were placed in danger, something they both shared, in varying ways.

Once again it was Murata who took the lead. "It's nothing that we can officially convict him on, which is a small part of the reason we've held back so far...but if we continue watching him we're sure to find more concrete proof."

Yuuri could feel Wolfram's tension; he quickly clamped his hand down on his husband's hand before he did anything rash.

"So that's why Anissina was told, to keep an eye on Greta?" Yuuri said, he was glad for that at least. He knew that Greta was friends with Michael; his daughter had taken a shine to the amicable soldier for a while now and it went without saying that Michael probably used her to gain more information about his private affairs.

"Oh _please_, as if that silly shrew could do anything right." Wolfram sniffed. Yuuri knew he was hurting for not being in the loop, and he was probably angry at himself for trusting someone who was hurting his family, but that was going too far. Before he could say anything, and he so hated pulling rank on his husband and friend Gwendal spoke his voice dangerously low.

"Anissina has been nothing but helpful and kind in supporting you with Greta, and she would never see her come to harm." It looked like he was going to say more, but he abruptly closed his mouth, it was very rare to see him talk from the heart in such a way.

He felt Wolfram wind himself up for a cruel retort, one that Yuuri knew he would regret. He readied himself to kick Wolfram under the table, fortunately it wasn't necessary as Wolfram let out a frustrated hiss and instead slumped back in the chair, arms now folded defensively. Mentally Yuuri also relaxed, it was hard enough to deal with his own emotions without reigning Wolfram in.

"So what was the evidence?" Wolfram asked, a little more subdued but still radiating anger.

"He's been sending encrypted letters to his sisters in Bielefeld Province which haven't made it to his family" Yozak responded steadily.

"My Uncle would not be involved in any treason against the King," Wolfram responded vehemently.

"I agree," Yozak countered much more calmly. "The letters never made it to Bielefeld Castle which would be the case if they were directed to Lord von Bielefeld; they got so far as Bielefeld town outside, and were handed over to a young lady in the Markets. The courier wasn't to blame, he was under the understanding she was Sir Wagner's sister, still is, we haven't told him yet, we want to continue monitoring the situation. The lady is Rochford's mistress, Maria, she stayed at an inn in the town and that's where I was able to get hold of the letters, I've written out copies, there was three, and have left one of my men to continue copying any more that come through. Maria then went over to the border, I followed her as far as the Rochford estates, and I was later informed that they were handed over to Lothor personally."

"So Lord Rochford is moving against the King?" said Gwendal, his face dark.

"Why would he do that?" He asked. He knew that Lord Rochford wasn't that impressed with him, but nor were quite a few of the Aristocrats. He could see no reason why he would move against him especially, at least not with everything he'd read and been told so far.

"I'm still trying to crack some of the encryption code, but from I can tell so far a lot of it has to do with Prince Wolfram." Yozak responded.

That made less sense, but before Yuuri could articulate his confusion on the matter Yozak addressed Wolfram.

"With respect, Your Highness I understand that Lord Rochford's younger brother was in your squad and died in an accident."

Wolfram eyes went distant as if remembering. "Yes that was twenty-one years ago, I'd only been Captain for a year then, Richard Rochford joined a few months after, as you know Brother" he addressed this to Gwendal. "He died in an accident up north, near Cooron Ridge, a spotted snake spooked his horse and he fell and broke his neck. At the time I was ill with fire fever, both Sir Schwarz and Sir Angelo was with him, Schwarz was the one who wrote the official report, he later told me that the accident could not be avoided."

"At first Lord Rochford blamed Wolfram," Gwendal added. "But when he found out the circumstances, that Wolfram wasn't even there, and that there was an investigation held independent of my findings which concluded it was an indeed an accident, a tragic situation all up, he seemed satisfied that Wolfram was not to blame."

"I don't think he has forgiven me emotionally, as little as was my involvement in the matter, but I don't see how he could seriously lay blame on me, especially after twenty years." Wolfram looked genuinely puzzled as he unfolded his arms, clasping them again on the table. "Not enough to spy on the Castle and work against the King, even if I'm Consort."

"Did you know Richard Rochford well," Asked Yozak.

"No, and I'm sure you read the reports so you know this well enough, Yozak. He was quiet, he liked to study history. I believed he wanted to be a scholar but Lord Rochford wanted him to have some military experience. He was a strong fire wielder and the right age so he was recommended for my Squad, I was happy to have him." Wolfram's voice suddenly sounded flat and tired.

Yuuri put his hand back on Wolfram's to comfort him, his thumb stroking his husband's knuckles without thought. He knew that only mazoku sons, and occasionally daughters of Nobles were accepted into the royal squads, and all were expected to be strong element users.

Only Conrad accepted strong sword users with little magical ability; humans and half-mazoku. But Conrad's squad was not recognised as royal. It had its own impressive reputation. To get into Conrad's squad was an opportunity. To get into Wolfram's and Gwendal's squads was a privilege, one that minor nobles tried their best to ensure their sons who had military aspirations would be placed.

Yuuri saw it as similar to the best schools in Japan, or the best Universities, once you got in you were set for life, and the networking and social climbing was ridiculously cutthroat, or so Yozak had once told him when asked.

He looked sidelong at Wolfram, something perhaps that Wolfram never had to experience, he had been born into the royal family itself, and now married to the King. That didn't mean he had it easy, he had a different set of challenges in his life, like getting people to accept that he was a decent soldier, when he had gotten that position due to his mother's influence. Yuuri hated the class differences in mazoku society, but he wasn't sure if it could ever be changed. He was a King after all.

"So Sir Lucas Schwarz was there, I understand you were close to him."

Wolfram stiffened slightly next to him, and he watched as Gwendal paid much more attention to his notepad all of a sudden. He mentally made a note to ask Wolfram about this Lucas later, he didn't think he'd met him. "Lucas is a good soldier; I trusted his word then, as I would now. And yes we were close friends. I fail to see how this relates to why Lothor Rochford is undermining Yuuri."

There was silence, as each person processed the latest information.

"So what do you suggest we do now?" This he directed at Yozak sensing it was best to change the subject slightly.

"Nothing, for now. We need to find out who else is behind this; if there is anyone, and what their motivation is, what Lothor's motivation is".

"What does it matter? It's treason either way." Wolfram challenged Yozak.

But it was Murata who responded coolly. "It matters because it's the best way of finding out what Lothor wants, if it's anything other than revenge, he's already sold private information to a foreign country, or at least someone close to him has, we need to find out what his plan is, where he will strike next." Even Wolfram could not find fault with that logic.

"If we tip our hand now we'll lose any chance of finding that out, they'll only come at us from another direction, one we might not anticipate and we may not be as lucky next time around. We can't give the benefit of the doubt to someone who wants to undermine your leadership." Yozak added.

"He's right," said Conrad, still leaning against the wall, but sounding strangely hesitant. "Your Majesty, this might be our only chance, and you have my word that Greta won't come to any harm, Wolfram, you have to trust this course of action, so much depends on it."

"I will trust any decision decided by Yuuri," Wolfram declared, although he certainly didn't look happy at Yozak's suggestion.

"If I may recommend" said Günter tentatively "As I have a daughter, it might pay to play the over-protective father, Your Highness, everyone knows that you are very protective of Greta and out of the two of you...well you are much more high spirited. Wolfram frowned at this and Yuuri had the urge to hug him, something he knew would be quite inappropriate, and would only piss him off.

"It would be natural," Günter said, "For a father to do so, and it's unlikely that Sir Wagner be overly suspicious if you play it right. At the least it will discourage him from involving your daughter in any plots; he wouldn't want to bring any attention to himself then is natural."

"Besides," Yozak added. "There is little information that he could get further out of the Princess, and as Lord von Christ said, it will ensure that she is kept safe.:

Wolfram nodded still looking reluctant. "Perhaps that will work."

"So that's all we can do then?" Yuuri asked the room in general. "Wait until Michael leads us to who is behind this" he sighed.

"Well apart from Prince Wolfram speaking to his Uncle..." Murata nodded at the blonde, that's the only option we have."

"I will speak to him as soon as I can." Wolfram agreed.

Everyone looked at Yuuri expectantly, awaiting his command. "Then that's what we'll do, wait and see," his voice sounded reluctant, even to his ears, he nodded to Murata and Yozak.

"Any further matters to add," Gwendal asked after a moment, when there was no response he continued "Well then meeting closed, we'll talk again in a week's time, _hopefully_ on schedule." He pulled his papers together and there was the scrape of chairs as the others collected their things.

"Murata, could you stay behind," he asked his old school friend, "I'd like a word with you."

Murata nodded, as everyone else filed out. Wolfram lingered.

"Wolfram, I'll talk to you later, I just need some privacy to speak to Murata...please," he gave Wolfram the eyes, the ones he always used if he wanted to get his way, as he got older he'd started to use it sparsely, knowing how easy it was to use Wolfram's feelings in that way.

Wolfram sighed "Fine, come see me after."

-{

Murata sat opposite him, as he did during the strategy meeting looking so composed and oh so very still.

"You _wanted_ to talk to me Shibuya?" Murata asked in a neutral tone.

"I wanted to talk to you about my plans for the Kingdom, and how I would like things to be."

Murata leaned forward slightly and steepled his fingers, the light catching on his lenses, giving him a very alien detached appearance.

"How do you want things to be?" A mild question, Murata tilted his head revealing passionless black eyes blinking at him which unsettled Yuuri more than the light reflective lenses.

"Damn it, Murata, don't play games now, we're friends right?" The frustration was evident in his voice.

Murata sighed, leaned back and removed his glasses, pulling out a cloth to clean them. Without them he looked incredibly young.

'Sorry sorry, it's a habit." Murata admitted as he gazed out of the window into the afternoon sky, his expression wistful.

"What, being an arse?" Yuuri asked. Murata's focused those black eyes back on him. "Because these last couple of months you've not been telling me what I need to know as King, and I know that's your influence, the others follow your lead."

He wanted to add that it was more than a couple of months but that wasn't fair, because up until a couple of months ago he really didn't mind so much. A small part of him had wanted that safety, of not having full responsibility and Murata had always been good at taking some of that load off him.

Murata shrugged apologetically, looking more than a little tired. Yuuri pushed down his feelings of guilt at being so angry, he had a right to know.

"As I said, it's a habit to keep secrets. It carries over to everything I do. When I was Great Sage to Maous before Shinou sent me to earth, it was hard to trust some of those who were selected." It was such a strange thing for Murata to say. Didn't Shinou choose the Maou? Why wouldn't Murata trust them? But it was more interesting to hear the words that the Sage used. 'When I was great Sage before,' 'I used to be a doctor, a teacher, a scholar' all those phrases he'd heard from Murata's mouth.

Years ago Murata had told him that his memories were of other people, that he empathised with them like a character from a book or film. However as time had gone by and he'd seen the way Murata had look at unguarded moments, or the way he spoke about experiences from those other lives as if they were his own, he'd slowly developed doubts that that was the case.

Perhaps it was just like any life, when Yuuri looked back at who he was five years ago it was as if he had been another person, but it had still been him experiencing those things, and that person then led to who he was now, shaped how he looked at the world.

Maybe that's how it was for Murata, but it was more than his two decades worth of experiences, it was thousands of years. And all of it had been Murata's soul; Yuuri couldn't even begin to comprehend such a long period of time or how any person could cope with the crush of memories and experiences. Yet Yuuri didn't think a soul could be passed on from person to person like the hand-me-down clothes he'd gotten from his brother, the soul was the true self. A feeling inside of him, possibly dim unrealised memories of Julia, or the insight of the Maou made him certain this was true.

He didn't know how to bring that up with Murata, or if that was something that he should. For now he'd pretend that what his friend had said on that boat was true, lies could be comforting, especially for those who told them.

"You can trust me." Yuuri told Murata. Maybe there was a little hurt coming through, but he couldn't help it.

"I do." Murata replied, putting his glasses back on. He shrugged again, "It's been a while, habit," he repeated. "I keep forgetting how much influence I have in this world; it's been awhile since I can recall having any great power...and now I'm the Great Sage." He said, almost as he didn't quite believe it, as if he needed to say it out loud as a reminder.

"And I'm the King, the Maou" he responded a little too pretentiously.

They both burst into laughter at how absurd they sounded, the tension dissolving. He'd been here for over five years, but it was still hard to get his mind around the fact he was a King, living in a castle surrounded by Lords and servants, now married to a Prince and the only person who knew him from before as a school friend was the Great Sage, royal adviser and spiritual leader with over four thousand years of memory.

"I think, Shibuya, it will still take a little while for Lord von Voltaire and von Christ and even Weller in some ways to see you entirely in that role. Put yourself in Voltaire's position. He administered power when his mother was Maou constantly working against his Uncle who was trying to undermine her authority. After his mother abdicated he ruled as de-facto leader for more than ten years, he's got solid experience. Then a fifteen year old boy from nowhere appears and he's expected to treat him as the next King, all things considered he's doing well.'

Murata paused, adjusting his glasses. "Your advisors are trustworthy and loyal, you are lucky; it is rare for those in power to find even a few with such traits."

Yuuri felt pride at that thought, but he couldn't help the frustration that spilled out of him. "But I _want _you guys to tell me things, I want _you_ to tell me things, don't keep me in the dark, Murata, I can't rule in ignorance." He knew his words were having an impact on his friend.

"That's my fault, when it came to Wagner, it wasn't you that I was worried about-

"It's Wolfram," Yuuri realised out loud, knowing it to be true from Murata's expression, but before he could launch into a defence of his husband Murata raised his hand.

"I didn't want to put a strain on your relationship so early. If we told you I would have advised you not tell von Bielefeld, he's too close to the situation and I know it would have caused you stress...but maybe I should have told you anyway. For that I'm truly sorry."

"Those are decisions I have to make for myself Murata!" He burst out.

"I know." And a strange resolve appeared in Murata's eyes, almost as if he'd come to a decision and for some reason this frightened Yuuri.

"This is the _beginning_, Shibuya, no more games or handholding from me. People will seek to undermine you, they will try to manipulate you and the best way, the easiest way for them is to come through those who you love, those closest to you," Murata looked sad at this.

"You have good advisors, and we will try to protect you as much as we can, but don't always take our advice absolutely, nor...dismiss it. A good leader is determined by those he surrounds himself by. You made a good choice in Bielefeld as Prince Consort, he is loyal and he loves you, that is vital for someone who shares your bed." Yuuri felt himself heating up at the matter of fact way Murata had said this.

"But those emotions could also be twisted, used against both of you, it's important that you both stand united." Murata indicated the room they were in. "It's only here, or in the privacy of your bed chamber that you can show conflict, it's only natural for couples to fight, but you can't let the country see it, not when it's serious. You must remind the Prince of this." Murata said intently.

"I think," Yuuri said, because he believed it wholeheartedly, "He knows that better than I do, he's grown up in the castle. I'm the naive one."

"But you must keep reminding him...reminding each other," Murata amended.

"And what about us, should we also always be seen to be in agreement?" Yuuri asked, because somehow he knew that they would not always have the same opinion when it came to ruling, after all this was what this whole conversation was about.

"Even more so, Shibuya, we may not always be in agreement but we must try to get along. A civil war would suck, don't you think?" Then Murata laughed at the shock that he must have seen on his face.

"You really have that much power?" He asked. He couldn't quite believe it; of course Murata could be secretive and creepy, he'd seen how much power he had over the elements and he had tremendous knowledge, but he hadn't realised how influential he was.

"Religion is a powerful thing," Murata shrugged. "It won't come to that, I have faith in you," simple and straightforward.

-{

Afterwards, as went in search of Wolfram he thought about what Murata had told him. The discussion had ended well, with Murata promising to talk to talk to him about matters more often, and to encourage the others to do the same thing and Yuuri believed that he was being sincere. But his parting words still troubled him "Keep in mind that change will be gradual, you're only twenty and you'll rule for centuries. You'll need to give your advisors time to trust you, the mazoku are slower to act than humans, the luxury of a longer life."

He had to have patience, he wasn't sure if that was going to be easy but that didn't mean he was going to sit back and let them continue babying him for whatever time it look for them to change and he had Wolfram on his side...and Conrad. He faltered at that thought, or he had Conrad, he wasn't so sure anymore. After the wedding, in fact before the wedding Conrad had been much more distant and he'd hardly had any time to talk to him alone.

Their morning exercise runs had continued, but Conrad continued being even more formal than usual and he'd spent years trying to break down those walls, of getting him to call him by his name. With the marriage Yuuri had taken the next step towards ruling the Kingdom as a real King, although he never really thought of himself in that way, he probably never would. Perhaps that's why Conrad had become so much more formal...

But he was the same, Conrad should know this, and he knew he couldn't talk to Wolfram about his concerns; tensions between them had risen again. He could never hope to understand why those two were at odds, but it hurt him to see it, they were brothers who at the best of times could be closer than he had ever been with Shori. But at the worst of times it was miserable, with Wolfram sulking and Conrad brooding, he wanted to shake both of them out of their stupidity.

Conrad had been a good friend, someone who he could rely on and he wanted that again, much like how Yozak supported Murata. This thought made him feel guilt, he'd never been a good friend to Murata. He'd always leaned on him too much for that and in school they were never close. He could see now that Murata had become friendly with him because of who he was to become, but he doubted they would have been friends if they hadn't shared a common destiny, other than that they had very little in common.

Yozak was always there for Murata and they got along well, having the same off kilter sense of humour. It was a bit like Conrad and himself, well minus the sense of humour, he smiled at that thought. He'd explain that to Wolfram, he wasn't as jealous as he had been but it did flare up at times. He'd tell his husband he had nothing to worry about, because Conrad was a close friend, just like Yozak was to Murata. Feeling a little more cheerful at that thought, he went to find the Prince.

-{

"So you already know?" Anissina asked as she brushed her long thick hair at her vanity table, watching Gwendal as he read a report.

"Hmm?" Gwendal was already in his nightgown, his nose buried in the papers while he sat up in the bed they shared. "About the Great Sage and Yozak? Günter told me after their meeting," he added disinterestedly.

"Sangria told me at lunch, one of the other maids found out when she saw them leave Yozak's suite this morning."

"Hmm," Gwendal once again responded.

"Hang on," Anissina walked over and pulled the report out from under Gwendal's nose and he sighed as she asked, "How did Günter know?"

"He's related to the lake people." He explained, but Anissina looked even more puzzled. "He's an air wielder, he can read auras,"

"I thought only a handful of people could?" Anissina queried, as she plopped herself down on the bed.

"That's right," Gwendal pulled the report back, "And Günter is one of them." Anissina settled herself under the covers.

"I guess the whole castle knows by now huh?"

"Probably."

-{

The battle was raging across the valley with both cavalry and infantry.

Murata floated above, like he always did when he had visions, a wispy astral ghost as substantial as smoke.

He couldn't see the King under the banner on the hill at first, but his viewpoint changed rapidly as he was propelled there, suddenly next to him.

It was Yuuri; a much older more scarred and damaged King. His broad chest carrying the armour effortlessly, with the royal crest that had been commissioned for him just after his sixteenth birthday. He looked like a Warrior King, his face unfeeling, one eye forced shut with a horrific scar that marked half his face. If Murata was to judge, the slash was the result of a sword attack, the type of wound very few people lived long enough to scar over.

The hope and optimism of the boy he knew was gone as Yuuri distantly regarded the battlefield.

Next to him was Lord Adelbert von Grantz, looking much older, his hair greying. On the other side was Lord Raven and oddly enough the elder Lord Bielefeld. Murata looked around in vain for Voltaire and Christ, where were they? In a battle such as this at least one would be present, more alarming was Lord Weller's absence. There was no sign of Prince Wolfram, and as often in his visions just the thought led him to an answer.

He was transported further down the hill. There was Wolfram, his hair shining in the sun. This was how Wolfram would look when he'd reached full maturity, tall like his bothers, but slender, his cheekbones high, his hair still short and curly, his features fragile and fey like. The Wolfram he knew was pretty, some would say beautiful, but the man he would grow up to be was stunning.

For all that his features were delicate, he held his reigns confidently, his hold on the sword sure astride his horse, a black mare, down the line of his men. He talked to them quietly as they were readying for the charge. Murata guessed he was maybe two hundred, two fifty years old, but his eyes looked older, pensive, holding a weariness of many years of suffering, which was startling in such a youthful face.

Why wasn't he with the King as the Consort should be? Or better yet, in such a major battle such as this back at the castle as regent and heir to take over if Yuuri should fall.

But even as he puzzled over this the sun caught the white armband Lord von Bielefeld was wearing. A vow of chastity and service; scholars wore white who took the vows so they could focus on their studies, a purity of purpose, but sometimes, far less often a soldier would do the same. The white band symbolised absolute and lifelong commitment to the crown and kingdom, a sign that they held that service of sacrifice before love, marriage and family. Unlike scholars who could renounce their vow, a soldier's was until death. Such was the culture of the soldier class, which was why it was rare to see anyone who had committed to it.

This Wolfram would not be married to the King or anyone, not anymore. His astral body floated a little higher, above Lord von Bielefeld's squad, there was no sound from the forces approaching no sound at all in this vision, but he had seen enough to imagine the clatter, the clash of metal, the scream of the horses and the injured.

With one arm Wolfram raised his sword as he screamed out a name that Murata could make out 'For King Yuuri' and then they charged. Like a leaf in the wind, he found himself swirling up higher. The energy of the souls below, their fear, anger, fury, pain working like a blast of wind making it harder for him to stay in one place and stay focused. Higher and higher he climbed. He could see the colours of those who fought for Shin Makoku, but the banners and the colours of the enemy was obscured and greyed.

Everything went dark and time sped up and like a DVD playing on fast forward he watched as the enemy gained momentum, from such a height it was interesting to see how the crowds of soldiers ate away at the other side, as long as you didn't think too hard about the reality on the ground. Murata had fought in enough wars to know, and he fervently wished he wouldn't see too much more, but even as he thought this he found himself being pushed down again, as the time below slowed down to a normal pace.

He found himself amongst Wolfram's men again, as the lines broke, where was Lord von Bielefeld? His astral form was propelled to where he was, Wolfram fighting desperately with a few men, surrounded, his uniform splattered with blood, his sword red as he fought horse to horse with the enemy. He kicked one man to the ground as he backhanded another solder on horseback with the flat of his sword, the man fell fatally under the horses. Bielefeld wasn't using fire, with a start he realised nobody was conjuring up the elements, this must be human land.

Time sped up again, and everything went black, when he returned it was it was barely in time to see Bielefeld fall as an arrow caught him in the shoulder which gave an opening as from behind an enemy soldier thrust a sword into his back, a mortal blow. Yet Wolfram still lived, only just, his face resolute and with his failing strength he reared his horse back and took out the man who had struck him then he slumped down and fell to the bloodied ground below.

Murata had seen so much death, had looked into the eyes of many people as they had breathed their last, but seeing this was much more difficult, as this mazoku lay on the ground, green eyes staring up into the sky, his eyes looked directly at him in surprised recognition before glazing over into death.

Where was Shibuya? He felt the energy wave of an explosion, and looked up in time to see soldiers thrown aside like ragdolls, many falling broken, both human and mazoku, friend and foe as the Maou himself, glowing blue hovered above the ground, his facial disfigurement making him monstrous. When he reached the young von Bielefeld the battle around had ceased, all stopped to watch the sight as the elemental possessed King picked up Wolfram's broken body.

He could not hear what Shibuya said, it was Shibuya not the Maou who whispered to Wolfram and he cradled him close, the first time since this vision had started that he could see the Yuuri he knew in the Maou's eyes. One of Wolfram's arms dangled uselessly in a way that broke Murata's heart. With a look of absolute despair and resigned grief Shibuya closed his eyes, Wolfram tight against him and slumped down onto to his knees, the energy around him suddenly expanded and before anyone could react the entire valley was ablaze with white fire. Shibuya, the body cradled in his arms, and all who were in that valley incinerated in an inferno of white.

Murata's eyes snapped open as his soul slammed back into his body. He was in his bed at the temple alone, he turned on his side and drew he legs up foetal, his body bathed in sweat. This was the first vision in this life, he'd numerous before, but only while in Shin Makoku. He had to remind himself that this was only a possible future; he had the power to change it, he could not let himself think otherwise. It was Shinou who gave him the power to see and Shinou was gone, how could he have this vision? Where had it come from?

In his mind he could see it again, Wolfram dying, looking up at him in puzzlement, Shibuya's anguish and the look as he decided to die and take everyone with him. How could Shibuya end up like this, what choices, what actions had led Yuuri's Prince, who was no longer his lying dead on a battlefield alone?

Murata closed his eyes tight and held himself, there was so much he had to do, and he had no idea where to start.

{++++

**Notes: **

I've been so slow, I know _I know_. This next chapter really exploded and then I had to change it to two chapters and make some hard decisions about a few scenes, to keep them in or not. I've also been writing another KKM story, a sweet romance of an unusual kind between Wolfram and Murata to distract me from icky editing. But good news I found a beta, a friend of mine has offered to rake my story over the coals, and when I mean coals I mean burning hot fire of brutal honesty. She's a really harsh grammar and punctuation fiend, I've seen her at work pulling others stories to pieces and I made her promise to go full out, eeek. So she's going through the first few chapters in a couple of weeks so expect them to look much better and hopefully my writing will improve. This chapter however, is still all mine, unbetaed, exposition dump and all. A few people have sent me reviews who I haven't responded to and I'm so sorry for that, THANK YOU! Every little bit of feedback is very much appreciated and makes me do a little dance around my laptop (I kid you not).

The next chapter is done, will edit it and then post soon, but sneak peek Yuuri gets drunk, Murata's visions continue and there is angst.

**Spoilery Warnings:**

Possible death of major characters, violence.


	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings:** Sexual situations, and here be more angst.

**Summary:** Yuuri gets drunk, stuff happens, Wolfram has an unpleasant revelation.

**Notes:** None this time.

{++++

A couple of weeks went by and Wolfram found himself getting used to his role as Prince Consort. It didn't take long for Yuuri and himself to fall into a domestic and professional routine that was strange _and_ familiar, familiar because it was no different from when he had shared a bed with Yuuri back when they were first engaged. Strange to wear black, strange the way people now deferred to him. There was such a difference between being engaged and being married to the King.

The one good thing was that it took him away from his Squad, normally that would have made him unhappy, but right now he needed to stay away. He didn't know if he could handle spending time with _that _traitor, as he'd started thinking of him in his head.

And to make things worst he had not been able to talk to his Uncle, the man had left early, even before the strategy meeting and had not informed the King or his nephew of the fact. He had sent a few courier pigeons which had been ignored and this was not the time to leave Yuuri to go after him and demand answers. If it wasn't for Yozak's intelligence to the contrary he would start to suspect his own Uncle just for his evasions, but lack of cooperation could be just as bad when it came to the service of the King, treason in its own right.

Both he and Yuuri had discussed how he was to approach Sir Wagner as the jealous father, but so soon after finding out about his betrayal he found it difficult to fabricate such a situation. He was afraid that if he spent any time with Sir Wagner he would lose it and start beating the man within an inch of his life, and he knew well enough that would not serve the interest of the King, or the welfare of his family. His daughter's safety was paramount, and between them all there was never any opportunity for Greta to be alone with the treasonous soldier.

Domestically he'd found himself getting closer to Yuuri, although they still squabbled but with far less heat. _Apart _from that one spat where Yuuri had talked to him about Conrad; the wimp was so innocent and oblivious when it came to the affairs of others. Sometimes that naivety was endearing, at other times it made him want to throttle his husband. _His husband; how strange._

Despite all the changes he had not forgotten the truth of their marriage; it was not a love match. Fortunately their arrangement was manageable and not as disastrous as he'd feared before the wedding. At times it was almost...nice, even with the underlying tension during nights knowing their relationship had to be consummated within a short time.

Nothing had been discussed about that since their wedding night. Reluctant to bring the subject up with Yuuri he had decided to approach the challenge from another angle. His goal was to get Yuuri used to him physically, bit by bit over time and so far the plan was going well.

He continued to help Yuuri with his outfit every morning and every evening, letting his hands linger. At first Yuuri had stiffened but then he'd become more relaxed at being touched. In their bed he'd offered Yuuri massages, something that wasn't entirely altruistic since he enjoyed touching Yuuri as much as his husband seemed to find the massages relaxing.

After a few nights he'd been able to coach him out of his pyjama top, and with sweet smelling oils had affectionately massaged the muscles in his back, his touch lingering far more then he'd ever do with his men in therapeutic sessions. Sometimes he'd talk to Yuuri about the day, or if Yuuri was particularly exhausted would hum the tune his mother had to him when he was little, sending his husband to sleep.

As the massages had continued he'd started to let his fingers wander. As he straddled Yuuri's thighs he let his hands stray to the small of Yuuri's back, where his pyjama pants were low slung and lightly traced the dip as his back sloped up to his buttocks. At those times he had to resist the urge to squeeze and touch Yuuri's arse, to cup his pert bottom, to tip his fingers into his secret places; or even worst for him to touch himself, since these sessions always turned him on. Yuuri's back was quite a sight to take in by candle light, his shoulders had broadened, the years of practice in sword work and his baseball practice obvious in the contours of his muscles.

In those instances Yuuri couldn't miss how much this was affecting Wolfram, even when the King was exhausted. The way the flame in the candles flared, his affinity with fire affecting the element as the desire grew within him, feeling himself lengthen and grow hard.

No, he couldn't hide his physical reaction from Yuuri, nor did he want to, he had to get his husband used to the idea of sex and his desire.

Yuuri stiffened a little when he first angled his hips forward slightly leaning over to massage the top of his shoulders, the edge of his hardness brushing Yuuri's pyjama clothed bottom. Then he had to resist the urge to thrust forward, to give his hardness more friction but Yuuri never said anything about it, and as the days went by he no longer seemed as nervous about the brief touch of Wolfram's arousal.

He wondered if he was having the same affect on Yuuri, but he was always on his stomach so he couldn't be sure, and he wasn't ready to offer him chest massages...yet.

Yuuri said nothing when Wolfram excused himself afterwards for a trip to the washroom. There he would take a hold of himself and quickly release the tension with quick efficiency. Without this relieve sleep would be impossible with Yuuri being so very near and touchable. He wondered if Yuuri did the same thing, using the opportunity while he was away, because he hadn't noticed any other time where his husband had masturbated; he certainly had no time during the day.

Come to think of it he really hadn't noticed much when he'd slept in Yuuri's bed when they were first engaged. He'd always thought at the time that Yuuri was too embarrassed and mortified about sharing his bed with another boy, so much so he had suppressed those urges. It didn't help to also have their ten year old daughter sharing their bed, at those times Wolfram had also found his own libido going on hiatus though the underlying urge never went entirely away.

He was at an age where his hormones were at their peak and would be for quite a few decades. When he had moved back to his own bed he'd often pleasured himself before sleep, it was the best way to relax his mind and body and he was no longer accustomed to denying himself when he felt the urge.

Perhaps later on he'd ask for a smaller bed to be brought in and placed against the other wall, across the large room; this would give him more privacy and more time to indulge late at night. If Yuuri heard, then it would be too bad, he was a young mazoku. He had needs and as Prince Consort he'd never have the right to find comfort with anyone else, but he'd go crazy if he had to resort to rough jerking off in the washroom. Wolfram liked to take his time, to satisfy himself slowly but for now that's all he'd have until their relationship was bound.

Apart from the touches with the dressing and the massages, he'd also taken to sleeping closer to Yuuri. Sometimes in the middle of the night he'd woken to find his husband curled around him, one arm flung across his waist. He wasn't certain if Yuuri realised this, but it gave Wolfram some measure of reassurance that Yuuri needed him in some small way, even if it was just for comfort.

Yuuri was always the first up in the morning, by the time Wolfram woke his husband had already done his morning exercises and had come up to get dressed from the baths, damp and smelling clean, where Wolfram, still sleepy would help him with his attire. A few days before Wolfram had hugged him spontaneously one morning, when he looked at him surprised Yuuri had shrugged and mumbled something about how he was so cute in the morning half asleep in his nightgown. He'd tried not to grin at this, smothering the hope that had grown in his heart.

So things between them had gone well; Yuuri now was so very different from the Yuuri that he'd first gotten engaged to, who had always run away from any contact and protested loudly each time. At this rate he hoped things would be resolved within two months and that the tension would dissolve. Then they could come to a more platonic arrangement and he'd finally get his own bed. He ignored the pain that caused him when he thought of that, but he needed to be pragmatic.

So he was surprised when things came to a head far more rapidly, in retrospect his ignorance was a blessing, because the outcome would cause great anguish to them both.

-{

Yuuri decided it was time, if he didn't do it soon he'd lose his nerve and he didn't think he could stand the thought of going through this for the next two months, even worst if they had to do it at the last minute.

In all honesty he hadn't planned that this was to be the night until a few hours ago. In fact he hadn't really thought about it at all, he had an idea that Wolfram would move things along when it was necessary and his mind had shied away from any further details of what that would involve.

A lot of the guests had already left the Castle, and the workload had decreased considerably when Gwendal had announced that Yuuri and Wolfram could take the next day off, such a rare event. He could stay up later then sleep in.

Yuuri didn't like alcohol that much, but Murata and Gwendal had encouraged him to get used to drinking at least one or two glasses a night which was a habit of all the nobles and he'd slowly gotten a small taste for white wine. But even still he had hardly built up any tolerance; one large glass made him light headed and two had him well and truly tipsy. The few times he'd gotten really drunk he had been a happy one, hugging people randomly and falling asleep after a few hours but he couldn't drink too much because it would make him sick, it made him feel good at the time but the next day he always felt sorry for it.

It was half way through the one glass, a particularly intoxicating vintage when he'd looked over at Wolfram, who'd been watching him happily after dinner when he'd decided that he'd..._he'd_...his mind still couldn't wrap the thought around the idea, but he'd let Wolfram take him.

He was light headed and Wolfram looked nice, and he could imagine he'd smell nice and it would be nice to be touched and held, the alcohol made it easier for him to admit that. Yuuri rarely admitted this to himself or to others but he was touch starved. His mother had always hugged him as a child, and when he was little his brother had lavished him with hugs and kisses. Since he'd taken up his life in Shin Makoku as King the hugs had been rare and he missed it.

Murata was never really a touchy sort, Günter was but his hugs always made him uncomfortable, Wolfram had carefully given him space, and Conrad, who had always given him hugs or affectionate pats on the shoulder had slowly stopped as the years had gone by, he supposed this was all part of growing up but he missed it, sometimes so much it made him ache.

Wolfram had touched him a lot over the last few weeks, which had filled a hole in him he hadn't realised existed. He'd found himself lapping up the casual touches and the massages or the way Wolfram's thigh would touch his when they were sitting together for meetings, and he'd slowly found within himself a craving for more.

This wasn't what he thought desire was about, he still didn't feel that way, but he wanted to be touched, and he knew that Wolfram wanted far more, he was inexperienced but he could sense Wolfram's desire. He could make Wolfram happy and in return he could get more of that touch and affection. The alcohol made it easy for him to realise this, making Wolfram feel good was something he really _wanted_.

So when they went up to their room after dinner Yuuri was feeling happy and lightheaded, easy with purpose after four glasses. He giggled a little as he tripped on the stairs and Wolfram caught him before he fell with an exasperated huff.

"You really are an easy drunk Yuuri." He thought he heard him mutter. And when Wolfram started helping him out of his jacket, which this time he did need help with, it was oh so easy to lean in and give Wolfram a small kiss on the cheek. Well that was what he was aiming for, but Wolfram moved his head and he got his lips. Wolfram felt nice, he smelt nice.

Wolfram looked at him a little flustered. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Do I need a reason to kiss my husband?" He answered, and only felt a little strange in saying husband this time; he thought that might be a good thing. Wolfram's face went all soft, he liked that look, and he thought about kissing him again but before he could Wolfram gently grabbed his shoulders.

"Get in," Said Wolfram as he softly guided him to their bed. "Here, drink some of this," Wolfram handed him a glass of water, "I'll go open the balcony door, some fresh air might help."

He watched as Wolfram walked over to the doors which led to the balcony, the smell of rain soaked earth wafted in, as a nice gust of wind pushed the curtains back.

It must be raining, he thought. "I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow." He said out loud. He lay down on the bed; it was nice and warm and closed his eyes for a minute. He drifted a while in that half-dozing state when he felt the bed dip as Wolfram got in on the other side.

"Wolfram, could you give me a massage?"

"Aren't you relaxed enough wimp?" His husband said after a pause, but he leaned over to get the oils anyway. "Take your top off."

In the end Wolfram had to assist him with this too, the buttons weren't cooperating so easily. His head still felt giddy but nice, he hadn't got to the part where he felt ill, perhaps the water would help. Soon he'd ask Wolfram to have sex with him; yes he could use that word easily in this state.

He felt a little nervous but the alcohol made it feel remote, his thoughts a little disjointed, he could trust Wolfram, he knew what to do, a well of affection bloomed in his chest, he could _always_ trust Wolfram. After Wolfram helped him with removing his top he leaned forward and gave Wolfram another kiss, this time he got the cheek and he let it linger a little, the startled noise Wolfram made him so very happy. He tried not to giggle at how absurd Wolfram looked with his mouth open, green eyes huge.

If Wolfram had any thoughts about the kiss, he didn't say as Yuuri lay down on his stomach, the jasmine like smell of the oils permeating the air. This was all very familiar now, and he loved the way the warm oils felt as Wolfram firmly pressed down on the muscles on his back, he drifted in and out as Wolfram started his humming again, he felt Wolfram dip lower past the small of his back.

"Wolfram, if you want, we can have sex now, you can take me." He only stumbled over the words slightly. The hands on his back stopped abruptly. Perhaps Wolfram didn't understand completely. He raised his voice. "I want you to, I'd rather it be this way."

There was a silence for beat. And then Wolfram spoke.

"Are you sure Yuuri? You know what this means?"

-{

Wolfram couldn't believe that Yuuri had asked this from him, in such a forthright way, or as forthright as Yuuri could when it came to sex. But he had to make sure that Yuuri knew exactly what he was asking Wolfram to do with him, to do _to_ him.

"You want me to penetrate you Yuuri?" He really hated using such a technical dry word with so little romance, but it was the quickest way to make Yuuri understand what this would mean. As if sensing his need for full consent Yuuri answered, sounding nervous but clear, his muscles underneath him tense.

"Err yeah. I want you to. That is, if you want to?"

It was clear that Yuuri was a little drunk, and it occurred to Wolfram that he'd drunk that much deliberately, maybe he had this planned from the beginning. He didn't think Yuuri was too far drunk, or he'd never consider going further, but that was always something that he'd plan, to get Yuuri tipsy and relaxed beforehand. The first time was always scary, he remembered well enough.

He frowned; he didn't want to fuck Yuuri. Perhaps if he kept going he could give him a chest massage and crawl on top of him, and well...he didn't think Yuuri would protest too much. But he'd take this slowly, no point in scaring him.

"If you want me to stop at any time, just let me know...at _any time_ Yuuri." He didn't want Yuuri to feel obligated to satisfy him, if this was aborted then there would be no harm done other than a little frustration on his part, he'd allow that there might be a few attempts before they got it right.

"Yeah okay." He heard Yuuri softly.

He continued massaging, his finger kneading lower; he leaned forward, just so Yuuri could feel him, half hard. So very slowly he pulled Yuuri's pyjama pants down until his entire backside was revealed. He paused slightly to admire his husbands bottom, muscled and yet soft and he slowly place his hands on both cheeks, Yuuri flinched slightly but then settled, he looked up to see Yuuri hiding his head in the pillow.

He found himself getting harder, the thought of sinking his shaft into Yuuri flashed through his mind, then he thought about climbing onto Yuuri's lap, watching Yuuri's face as he impaled himself on his cock, he'd never seen what Yuuri would look like erect. Suddenly he wanted to, oh so badly. He wanted to make Yuuri feel good, to be the first person to make him lose control, this was something he wanted to savour as if...no, _because_ it would probably be the last time he'd get the chance.

_Nobody else will ever have this Yuuri_, he thought, and he felt a little smug about that. He moved his fingers, grabbing both globes firmly as he rubbed them a little roughly and then softly, the oil making the glide of his fingers smooth. Another image hit him of leaning over and licking inside the crease, of finding those secret places inside, but he stopped himself, he didn't think Yuuri would ever want that, _ever_. He paused thinking about what he would do next, perhaps he'd ask Yuuri to roll over, but he discarded that thought, instead his caressed Yuuri's hips and with one smooth and quick motion moved it underneath to stroke Yuuri's shaft.

Yuuri's reaction was sudden and violent as he rolled away into a half sitting position, clutching his pillow to cover himself as he faced Wolfram, his eyes lowered.

"You don't have to touch me, just...just take me." He explained hastily, his voice shaky, but if Yuuri wanted to hide from him it was too late, he already knew.

"You don't want me!" His voice came out as much more of an accusation then he wanted, and he cursed himself for it as Yuuri shoulders flinched, almost as if he had hit him. But he knew, Yuuri wasn't aroused by the massage, he probably never was.

His stomach was so tight it was hard to breathe. He couldn't do this. He couldn't force himself on someone who didn't want him physically. The evidence was clear; Yuuri was so disgusted with Wolfram that he couldn't even get aroused at his touch. Wolfram was probably too...repulsive, too male.

He had to get out of the room, he had to get some distance, he felt so irrationally angry and hurt and this wasn't _fair_, it wasn't fair at all for him to feel this way and it wasn't fair for him to take it out on Yuuri but he couldn't control how he felt. He had to leave before he said something that they would both regret, he started to get up but Yuuri grabbed him roughly.

"No, it doesn't matter, I want you to do this Wolfram, I can't...I don't...I, _Wolfram_, we have to do this, I don't mind, I want this." Yuuri looked up at him sincerely, his eyes wet with unshed tears, one hand still holding fast on his wrist, the other clutching the pillow that covered his lap. This was so very wrong.

"How can you _want this_, this is something that has been forced on you...I can't," a memory hit him, "This is why you wanted me to fuck you." He hated himself when the word made Yuuri flinch again. But it all became so clear.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered harshly, he was close to tears himself.

"I didn't know how, I didn't...Wolf, it's not you it's not-

"I don't want to hear it, I _can't_, I'm going," this time Yuuri didn't try to stop him as he yanked his arm free of the King's grip. He didn't look back.

-{

This was one of the few nights since he'd started his affair with Yozak that he was alone, and Murata was finding it difficult. He pulled his hair tie out and let his hair fall free, dragging his fingers through the strands roughly to massage his scalp.

"I better get used to it." He said to the empty room. Yozak was often out of the country and it was only his supervision of Sir Wagner's surveillance and certain other nobles which had kept him in the capital for such a long period of time.

He looked at the books scattered across his work table, ancient texts he'd managed to unearth with von Christ's help from the Castle archives, almost every single bit of information on oracles and divination and the insane ramblings of seers and prophets he could find.

The vision of the battle and Wolfram's fall had visited him twice more and he knew it was something he could not ignore. He still couldn't understand why he was getting them without Shinou's help, he knew his talents and he was never naturally an oracle. He'd been reluctant to speak to Ulrike who did get visions infrequently, knowing this would encourage her belief that Shinou was still out there. But if he didn't make any progress he may not have any choice, Ulrike might know something he didn't...unless, perhaps he could speak to Ondine first.

He closed the book he was reading, making sure to bookmark it for later. Still too early for bed, it was only after midnight and if went to bed he'd only stare at the ceiling uselessly. Perhaps if he got himself a cup of tea to settle himself down. He shivered as a cool draught came through the room; he got up and pulled the night robe tightly about him as he closed the window, listening to the pattering drops of rain against the pane, driven by another gust of wind. It was too early for the rainy season, maybe this would mean the river would flood and Yozak wouldn't be able to leave for a while. A foolish notion.

He was just about to make himself some tea when he heard the sharp knock at the door. Who was here at such a late hour? With foreboding he opened the door.

"Sorry to disturb you, Your Eminence." It was the Captain of the Shrine Maidens. "But the King has arrived seeking your audience."

"It's fine, please bring him up." He set the jug on the fire hearth to boil, no matter the crisis and he'd imagine there had to be one tea was always the best way to handle it, especially on a cold rainy night.

There was very little time for him to get dressed; he should have asked if Shibuya had come alone, oh well. When he saw Shibuya at his door he felt ashamed for concerning himself about such insignificant matters when his school friend was so obviously distressed.

"Sorry..._sorry,_ Murata, it's just, I needed to talk to someone."

Shibuya was soaked through, his hair and jacket wet. "Stay there." He instructed his confused friend and went into his room and pulled out a large robe and towel, returning quickly he handed them to Shibuya.

"Go into my room and change out of your clothes and put this robe on." He told Yuuri gently.

"No it's fine –

"Don't be silly, Shibuya, you're shivering and you'll be no good if you catch ill. We can sit next to the fire and get warmed up. Hang the wet clothes on the rack behind the door." Yuuri nodded miserably.

By the time Shibuya had returned the jug was boiling and he carefully removed it. It was times like this that he missed having a microwave, that and a laptop with internet. Reading old books by candlelight wasn't as romantic as those period films made it out to be, especially if you were short sighted.

He placed the jug on the hot plate and carefully poured it out into the cups while Yuuri settled himself on the sofa. Murata had found a couple of nice sofas to place in front of the fire, whoever had lived in here before had been fond of hard back chairs which he had replaced. The ascetic life had never been for him unless necessity dictated it.

"Be careful, it's hot." He murmured as he handed the cup to Shibuya.

They sat there for a while. Murata giving his friend furtive worried looks although it was plain that Shibuya was far too gone in misery to notice.

"Murata, I'm sorry, I didn't...I needed to talk to someone and you were the only person who I could, it's...I don't know how to... Wolfram is so upset with me."

He could think of a few things that had gone wrong, but he didn't want to embarrass his friend any further by guessing.

"Why is that, Shibuya?" He asked gently.

It was another length of time before Yuuri answered his eyes downcast.

"I wanted to be with Wolfram, I wanted to...to consummate our marriage, but...Murata, there is _something wrong with me._" The last few words were said in an anguished whisper as if it had taken effort to say them. Murata knew how embarrassed Yuuri got when it came to sex, in school he had made crude jokes to get a reaction out of the boy he had been, but as he'd grown older he'd still held onto that prudishness, even living in Shin Makoku, which was a much more open society than his childhood home.

"I take it things didn't go well?" He prodded his friend when the following silence dragged on. Yuuri had put his cup down and was now staring into the fire, one hand wrapped in the cloth tie that held his robe shut, twisting it back and forth in agitation.

"No, I couldn't, I wasn't able to, Murata, I'm not interested...I don't..." Shibuya struggled with his words but continued his voice still low and distressed. "It's not just Wolfram, it's everyone, I haven't...it's not...there is something wrong with me." He repeated. It was apparent that Yuuri was unable to express exactly what was making him so miserable. Murata decided it was best he make a guess although he'd always had suspicions.

"You find it difficult to get sexually aroused?"

Yuuri nodded miserably, his shame palpable.

"Shibuya, have you ever had an erection?" There was no way he could sugar coat that question, it was necessary to know if he wanted to help his friend.

"Yeah, when...when I hit puberty at first, but then it stopped."

Inside Murata sighed in relief, if that was the case it was less likely that his friend was entirely asexual. There was nothing wrong with that but it would make things complicated being married to a man with a strong sex drive and something told him that Wolfram's passions ran high.

"Did you masturbate then?" Yuuri nodded again, still not looking at him, seemingly fascinated with the cloth tie that was now knotted around his fingers.

It was like pulling teeth, but he had to be patient. Before he thought of another question Shibuya continued, tentatively at first, but faster as the words spilled out of his mouth in a desperate stream of consciousness.

"It stopped after I got engaged to Wolfram, at first I thought it was because he was sharing my bed...and that was hard. It gave me little time for myself but then the urge went away...it took me a while to notice, what with becoming King and chasing after swords and flutes and adopting a daughter." Shibuya laughed humourlessly, just a step away from hysteria.

"Before that, were you attracted to anyone?"

"Yeah, I mean, not anyone in particular, just actresses and singers...and...base err others." Murata raised his eyebrow.

"But after," Yuuri added hastily, "It wasn't that I didn't notice when people were attractive or good looking, it's just...I didn't feel it, and after a while I stopped remembering what it felt like. It's hard to miss something you can't remember wanting in the first place. Sometimes...it was almost peaceful."

Looking back at Shibuya's behaviour this explained so much, his awkwardness over talk of sex, his evasion of flirtatious behaviour, the way he was oblivious to other people's body language or affairs that were going on around him. Without any sexual desire he didn't have the experience to understand this and he didn't know how to ask for help.

"Shibuya, do you want me to help you solve this?" He asked his friend gently. He didn't want to interfere unless it was necessary and only if Yuuri wanted it.

"Can you? I thought this wasn't something that could be put right." For the first time he looked at Murata and shrugged resignedly his face still unhappy. "I just wanted to know how I could get Wolfram to accept this...but it's not fair for him, I know it's not."

"I don't think your situation is natural, Shibuya, I can't say for certain, but I have a feeling this might..."

He stopped when there was a sharp knock on the door. He was certainly popular tonight.

"Excuse me for a second." Yuuri nodded dully and returned his gaze to the fire. The knocking at the door continued impatiently. I'm coming, he though irritably.

When he opened the door he was confronted by another wet visitor who walked into the room without so much as a greeting, "Your Eminence," Prince Wolfram burst out before he could say anything. "I want you to dissolve the marriage...Yuuri!" Wolfram broke off, his eyes widening as he noticed his husband standing there; he had stood up at Wolfram's entrance wretchedly resigned.

"Come on in, Bielefeld." Murata said in a dry tone. "It seems we have a lot to talk about."


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Murata consults the Maou. A promise is made.

**Notes:** This one isn't betaed.

{++++

It was clear that the Great Sage was waiting for a response. Not that Wolfram was eager to do so. He wasn't comfortable with talking about his personal life at the best of times. Two in the morning on a rainy night with a wretched and still possibly drunk husband was not the best of times, and Wolfram's pride was hurting.

All in all it was a wonder he was able to understand a little of what he had been told. It was only the sight of Yuuri looking miserable wrapped in an oversized robe curled up in the couch next to him which had kept him here so far. The looks Yuuri was giving him hurt his heart.

He blinked at the Great Sage, sitting on the other couch.

"The Maou, it's the Maou spirit? How does that work and why should he care? Isn't he really Yuuri, the Maou _is_ Yuuri, just…"

Wolfram trailed off, he really didn't know what the Maou was. His mother had never been gifted with its manifestation. Only certain monarchs were and as time went by it became less and less common and it had been generations since the last.

The Maou as a topic was like that of Shinou and the original Great Sage, it wasn't really encouraged to think about or question. It just _was_ and he'd never really thought about it until now. Being married to a man who held the power of the Maou made him realise how little he knew.

The Great Sage, Murata...he found it difficult to call him his name so casually, even in his head, leaned his chin on his on his clasped hands, his glasses reflecting the fire. Even in his nightgown the Great Sage looked slightly sinister as he responded to Wolfram's question.

"I'm going to tell you a story, something that few people know and up until now it really wasn't necessary for anyone to know. The Maou as you know is the eternal spirit of the mazoku realm. It was here before humans and mazoku arose, and likely be around when we are gone. It's an elemental spirit which controls all the others. The Maou is infused in the soul of some monarchs. Shinou was the first and it's possible that Shibuya will the last now that Shinou has passed on. " The Great sage shrugged, a large log in the hearth fell and flickered up some embers, as if giving ambience to the tale.

"The Maou is _infused_ in the soul? How does that work? How can it be placed in a mazoku without changing who they are?" asked Wolfram.

"The Maou has no sense of self. Its only purpose is to give life to the land and protect it. Its will to protect was how Shinou was able to make a contract with it. We shared a common goal. Shinou was a powerful magical user, for more talented than anyone I've seen until Shibuya. But unlike Shibuya he was very arrogant." The last words were said much more quietly, the Great Sage's eyes turned inward.

"In all fairness our decision to contract the Maou was one of dire necessity but we were ignorant to the powers we were playing with." The Great Sage adjusted his glasses.

Wolfram sighed in exasperation and mumbled. "We know this, more or less…:"

Murata ignored him. "I don't think it realised, of course it had no ability to understand, anymore than we did what the contract involved and for how long. I don't know if infused is the right word and I'm not entirely sure what it means, even with Shinou's explanation from the ascended plane it still confuses me and I've thought about it a great deal over many years." The Great sage smiled wryly.

"I don't think we from this physical plane can ever quite understand. Murata laughed out loud, the sound derisive. "The concept is such a paradox, I can only take Shinou's word and in this I believe him. When we made the contract with the Maou it was bound to Shinou's will. While in the body of a mazoku it cannot leave until that person dies and then it returns to Shinou's charge. But as time went by it become harder and harder to find a person strong enough to withstand its power. Since the Maou has no ego it takes…it took on the characteristics of the person it inhabited. It's nothing like possession. It _becomes_ that person and that mazoku if gifted enough can channel this elemental power. Not as much as the Maou is capable at its full strength, the mortal body is fragile and limits ability but enough to make any mazoku or half-mazoku," he tipped his head towards Yuuri, "Far more powerful than any other being, and that power has saved the Kingdom a number of times."

"As time went by the Maou became...it developed a personality, an ego. I believe it started to take on the characteristics of those it had in inhabited over time. I guess it was inevitable, the element is magical, it has the capacity for learning. With that self-awareness we ran into a problem, it was slowly gaining the realisation of its contract, and I'm not entirely sure it was happy with it. Those who were later imbued with its presence had to battle the will of the Maou for control and for those who were weaker it led to insanity."

"King Slaughter, King Waltorana, Queen Sangria." Wolfram wondered out loud, suddenly so much in history made a little bit more sense.

Murata nodded. "Amongst others. The insanity wasn't always so spectacular; it's why we, why Shinou stopped invoking the Maou. Many of the monarchs of the last two thousand years weren't strong enough and they were the strongest Shinou could find in those generations. I spent a lot of time smoothing things out politically while I was in Shin Makoku, finding the right person that Shinou could select who could reign _without_ the Maou's power. Relying upon the memory of the greatness of the Maou personified. Those who didn't follow Shinou's word were punished, but only as a last resort. I wasn't fond of such heavy handed tactics." Murata frowned.

"Shinou eventually sent me to earth. I spent so many lives there in preparation for the soul that would change everything. We thought you would come earlier. In that time things in Shin Makoku fell into further crisis. Shinou is not the best manager and it had been so long since he had lived in the physical realm he had lost the ability to empathise with mortals and didn't select the best of leaders."

There was silence for a moment, each person lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I'm rambling. The point is that we _needed_ you to have the power of the Maou, Shibuya, to reseal the boxes. You were our entire purpose, the one person we had waited so long for. Shinou's death and ascension, my promise to always remember, the reason I was sent to earth for so long, after all this time, after everything we couldn't let this problem get in our way...we had to find a solution." The Great Sage sounded so matter of fact about, and yet the story he told was full of sacrifice and regret.

"Yuuri has the Maou and he isn't insane." Wolfram said. Murata gave him a sharp assessing look.

"No, well...not entirely so." Murata put his put his hand up to forestall Wolfram's protestation.

Murata turned to Yuuri. "We picked your soul, as you know because it had the purity and power required for the task. We...Shinou wasn't sure if you could withstand the Maou, absorb it. Its will had gained so much strength that we couldn't risk your sanity. This was a one shot deal. To prevent any problems Shinou placed the Maou in your soul before you were born, before you were even conceived."

"That's why Julia had to die?" Wolfram burst out angrily. "How could you play with lives like that? How-"

Shibuya interrupted him with a question to the Great Sage, outwardly unfazed by this revelation, his voice sure.

"So why is that so different?"

"_Because_," Wolfram answered before Murata could reply to Yuuri's query. "All the Kings before made their contract as adults. Yuuri, you were _never _given a choice. It's always been with you, all your life. I thought your contract was made when Undine gave you the water." He was completely confused.

"No contract, but it might have activated the Maou within." Murata tiredly rubbed his jaw in consideration.

"But I did make that choice, didn't I? Julia made that choice." said Yuuri softly, almost to himself.

Was the idiot so blind. "_Yuuri_, that was Julia...that wasn't-

"_I_ made the choice." The look that Yuuri gave him was apologetic but resolved and firm; Yuuri's hand grabbed his and squeezed gently. "_Please,_ Wolfram." With a sigh he dropped the matter.

Yuuri then calmly addressed Murata again, "So what does that mean? Holding this contract from birth."

Murata shot a slow glance at Wolfram before he addressed them both. "We didn't know. Shinou thought that you'd be more resilient, absorb more of the Maou. You'd stand a better chance and be far stronger. I was to keep an eye on you on earth. Everything seemed normal as you grew up until you came to Shin Makoku and the Maou made itself known. At first I was worried that he had won out, he had taken over your soul...when you used his power...you changed. Shibuya, do you ever remember those episodes?"

Yuuri closed his eyes for a moment, and shook his head. "No, sometimes I remember bits and pieces, flashes but nothing that makes any sense."

Murata sighed. "I think that's how you've coped. You didn't absorb the Maou as we hoped, you separated yourself from it altogether, Yet it's very much like you, the strong sense of justice and compassion and its reluctance to takes lives, it's you and yet not. I think that's a form of disassociation, extreme disassociation."

"Like schizophrenia?" asked Yuuri sounding a little uncertain. Wolfram had no idea what they were talking about, more earth lingo to confuse him. But he knew this was not the time to voice his usual objections.

"Of a sort, it's a very loose analogy...that's one theory and one I find most likely. There is only one way to find out, I need to talk to the Maou."

"And will that help with that I want?"Yuuri's voice sounded flat and tired.

"I can't say, but it's a start..." Murata looked like he was going to say more but he stopped. "I'm sorry Shibuya, are you able to bring the Maou forth?" Murata asked gently.

"You know he can't do that." Wolfram objected way more loudly then he intended. Yuuri was hand was still on his, he wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure him, or find reassurance in that simple touch.

"No I can't, you always said it was something I would learn to control, but it's only when I'm angry that it happens. Bit like the hulk huh?" Yuuri laughed weakly. Wolfram sighed, more earth references he could never understand, it was like listening to half a conversation.

"There is a way I can call it," Murata said. "But there is a small element of risk."

"What risk?" Wolfram asked. He would not have Yuuri hurt for anything.

"I can't say, it could try to take control, it could try to take revenge on me. I don't know, those scenarios are unlikely. It's cooperated well enough before and it seems fond of everyone, it is _you_, Shibuya, in a sense, it can't be anyone other than you."

"And yet really it's not?" Wolfram asked again, knowing he was being abrasive, but not really caring so much.

Murata shrugged. "Semantics."

"I still fail to see how this...this makes Yuuri, how this..." He couldn't say it out loud, not in the presence of the Great Sage, the humiliation...he swallowed the defensive anger that arose when he felt exposed. Despite this, the Great Sage seemed to understand what he was asking.

"I think Shibuya has pushed all the emotions...everything that is frightening, or negative onto the Maou persona. Emotions like anger, fury and lust. I also find it interesting that the first time the Maou became dominant was triggered by your actions, Lord von Bielefeld. I think that might be something we should keep in mind. You were the catalyst."

What did Murata mean by that? He was afraid to ask, he wasn't going to talk more about specifics which could lead to more talk about his...their intimate life. Dancing around it was bad enough.

"What will the ritual involve?" asked Yuuri.

Murata smiled sadly. "This is how it will go..."

-{

After lying uneasily awake next to each other Yuuri was the first to cave in, crawling into Wolfram's arms. The feel of his husband warm in his arms was comforting and he could no more turn Yuuri away than stop wielding fire.

"I did enjoy it you know, you touching me. I know it's not the same and I know it's not what you want me to feel but...I liked it." Yuuri said carefully.

"You're such a wimp, Yuuri. You should have told me this a long time ago...the things I thought...having to talk about in front of another...I'm so _ashamed_." Wolfram replied, he tried to come off as angry, but there was no heart in it. He was ashamed of bringing the topic up with the Great Sage but he was more ashamed at the way he had treated his husband.

"I know, I'm _sorry_...Wolf, if this doesn't work, if this is who I am, who I'll always be, would you still want out? I mean it's something I'd understand...but I don't want you to go, I'm selfish for saying that I know..." Yuuri ended that in a shaky voice.

"Oh _shut up_, the only thing that matters is if you care, I only wanted it to end because I was afraid I was trapping you into something that you didn't want. He squeezed Yuuri tighter. "However, if you want me to stay in this marriage, I will, as long...as long as you say, no matter what, just as long as you care."

"I care, I...really _care_ Wolf – Yuuri stopped when he saw Wolfram cock his head. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing, I thought I heard something, I hate sleeping in this place. When I was stuck here before the wedding I was sure it was haunted, as if someone was watching me."

Yuuri stifled a laugh, partly nervous sounding his body shaking. "You grew up in Covenant Castle and you're afraid of ghosts."

"There are _no _ghosts in Covenant Castle, Yuuri," He snorted as if that was the silliest idea ever. Whatever he said made Yuuri smile and he kissed him on his brow. With a happy and sleepy sigh Wolfram accepted it.

-{

He was just dozing off when he felt a most welcome presence. He smiled despite himself, but kept his eyes shut while he listened to Yozak undress. When Yozak got into the bed he put his arms around him.

"You're cold. Still raining outside?" Murata murmured.

"The proverbial baby dragons. Now this," he shoved his body closer to Murata. "Is a tight squeeze, sweetheart."

"So how are the children?" Asked Murata in a dry tone as he shifted his body to accommodate the taller man comfortably, one leg he slid between the spy's legs. He knew that Yozak would have noticed who was sleeping in his room; it would have been the first place he visited.

He'd sent a messenger bird to the Castle before sending the couple to bed; it was way too late to send them home. It was likely that Lord von Voltaire had ordered the spy to come check that all was well. He himself was sleeping in the guest room, the one that the Prince had stayed in before the marriage.

"Fine, adorable little lovebugs, curled up against each other and whispering sweet nothings. And I'm happy to note that the Prince is getting a little better at protecting the King. For a moment there I thought he'd caught me slipping in. Of course, it would take a genius to overcome my superior sneaking skill." Yozak said with dry humour.

"That's good" Murata said with relief.

"I certainly didn't expect to see the royal couple in _your_ bed, Ken. Something about your love life you wanted to tell me?" Yozak tone was teasing and it was funny but Murata was oh so tired. He buried his head against Yozak's chest and breathed in deeply.

"Heh," Yozak said gently, sounding a little surprised at Murata's reaction. The spy petted his long hair. "Bad day than?"

He nodded his head and was grateful when Yozak squeezed him tightly.

"I guess this is why the King and Prince are occupying your room, anything you want my help with?"

"No...not yet, but I might need your help later." He knew that Yozak wouldn't push.

There was a moment of silence, as he enjoyed Yozak's body heat. He was glad that Yozak had come, even if it was only to check up on the King.

"I think we should run away together." Yozak announced lightly. "Get away from these crazy people and settle in some nice quiet village. I've got some cute dresses, very rustic with embroidered aprons to die for. It would go well in such a setting."

He probably did, Yozak loved women's fashion. He had a particular thing for lacy aprons and garter belts, sometimes _just_ lacy aprons with stockings held up with said garter belts. Murata didn't mind in the least.

"You'd get bored." he said to Yozak.

"Ah, but we'd pick a fishing village. Somewhere warm. I'd go off and do manly adventures on fishing vessels in summer and you could stay back in our little cottages with your books and teach the village children. On days off you would be all wifely with interior decorating and cleaning in anticipation for my return. When I came home in winter after months of manly exertion hauling fishes, we could snuggle up by the fire. You with your books. Me with my apron."

Murata snorted against his chest. "I'd be the wife eh?"

"Well of course, you are the pretty one. I'm obviously the manly man in this relationship honey." He hammed up his voice in a coy flirtatious manner.

"What do you think? Than we could grow old together..." Yozak trailed off when he realised the likelihood of this happening.

There was silence. Murata couldn't think of anything to say to diffuse the sad atmosphere that fell. Of course they both knew, always had known but had never spoke about it. He was human; he'd grow old and die before Yozak reached middle-age. Their relationship would always be transient in Yozak's life. Murata was used to change, he'd seen so many people come and go, and return in different incarnation, the world changing, karma enacted. If he had not accepted the change he'd have gone insane...he almost had a few times.

He wasn't sure if Yozak would deal half as well. Yozak still had so much to learn and he never really wanted to get too involved in the karmic ties that had the half-mazoku revolving around Lord Weller, not _again_. He loved Yozak, had in some measure fallen in love, had loved him before...perhaps would love him again, but he could let go if and when necessary. Except this time around he'd wanted it to last a little longer.

This final time, before his body would fail and his memories fade away, turning into dreams and imaginations, half-realised déjà-vu and vague feelings. Just like everyone else, just like normal. Finally, _finally _he'd have another chance with his soul mate, free of the stifling weight of time, destiny, regret and responsibility. A time to rest.

Yozak was not his soul mate. But his love for him, at this point, felt no less in spite of that. He picked up Yozak's hands and kissed his palm softly, almost in apology for the pain he was causing, will probably cause. Then he wrapped the blankets tighter around them both and let sleep take them.

-{

"_I'll need three powerful element users for the circle. I'm thinking of Lord von Christ, Lady Ulrike and Prince Wolfram." _

"_Of course I'd be involved if you are looking for strong magical users, but I fail to see why Günter would be needed." Wolfram tone was belligerent._

"_He might not be as strong as you Prince Wolfram but he is strong and he's an air user. Having different elemental users will make it easier for me to channel and his discretion can be assured." Murata gave Lord von Bielefeld a hard look. He wasn't in the mood for disagreement. It had been a long night and he was tired and starting to feel cranky._

_The Prince sighed dramatically but didn't protest any further._

"_Must we tell them everything?" Shibuya asked hesitantly in a soft voice. Shibuya and Bielefeld exchanged a mortified look._

-{

"So why is it necessary that this happen so soon?" asked Lord von Voltaire looking harried as usual. Lord von Christ had already agreed to the ceremony but Murata felt it important that everyone was informed and in agreement.

"Because," Murata said, carefully not looking at either the Prince or Shibuya who were sitting in their usual spot in the strategy room. "It seems the traitors are targeting Prince Wolfram. It's likely they will try to undermine him before the marriage is formalised, the better to embarrass the King. It's now more than ever that Shibuya needs better control of his Maou abilities." It was the simple truth.

-{

"_I can't guarantee the topic won't be brought up by the Maou," he said. "Or that I might have to broach the topic if I have to. Perhaps it is best you bring it up with the inner circle first?" He directed this to Shibuya._

"_No...no it's fine-_

"_Maybe we shouldn't have Ulrike though." Wolfram interrupted looking pained at the possibility of such intimate knowledge revealed to the very much female Oracle._

-{

"I will not have anything to do with this, Your Eminence, and I'd highly protest the use of the Temple in this...it's an outrage against Shinou."

_You've never had anything against the Maou before_ he thought frowning at Lady Ulrike's growing orthodoxy. Too bad Lady Undine was too far away. He considered and discarded the idea of telling Ulrike about the dream. With such convictions he had no idea how Ulrike would react.

He did not want to make an enemy of the Oracle. It wasn't just political reasons why he didn't want to cause such a rift, but personal. He _liked _Ulrike; she had been a very good friend over the years and he had developed a good rapport with her while he stayed at the Temple. He didn't want any dispute with her.

"We need the Temple, Ulrike. It's the only place which can hold the elemental spirit safely." The power of Shinou still suffused the ground the new temple was built on, along with the water which came up in the spring.

With a sigh Ulrike lowered her head in dismay.

"I will have nothing to do with this, Your Eminence. The Shrine Maidens and I will stay away, Shinou protect us all." _It was Shinou which led to this_, he thought bitterly.

-{

"_The backup will be Lord von Voltaire. He is a solid earth user if one of the others pull out."_

-{

"I will do my best, but I trust that this is as safe as you said it will be. The Kingdom can ill afford any crisis at this time."

"As long as you follow my instructions all should go well. This is a fairly standard spell. It's only the Maou which makes it a little...extraordinary." Noticing Lord von Voltaire's frown he added. "The Temple should keep him contained along with the water barrier that I'll create with the spring mechanism." Running water was always difficult for spirits to breach.

"I've ensured everyone's safety. The risk to the Kingdom is higher if we do not resolve this." He knew his tone was much more fervent than his usual laid back counsel. Lord von Voltaire's eyes widened, then he nodded agreement.

-{

"Were you able to set up the devices?" He asked the tired looking Yozak.

"At the agreed signal the temple walls will implode, but there will be no time to get you out, Ken, to get _any_ of you out. We'll barely get the Shrine Maidens clear."

"I sincerely believe it won't come to that." he touched Yozak's hand and looked into his eyes. "But even with such a small risk I need to ensure he doesn't escape. The walls should contain him and when...when the King's body is destroyed he will have no power." _No focus and no will._ _I hope_.

"You mean when you are all crushed by tonnes of falling masonry? I trust you, Ken, in this. But have you told the others?"

Murata shook his head but didn't explain further.

"This is a last resort, I'm fairly confident it won't be necessary." He assured Yozak. Compared to the time that Shibuya had confronted Shinou this was a simple matter.

"I hope you're right, Ken."

-{

"_Above all, do not talk to the Maou even if he addresses you. Not under any circumstances. Elemental spirits are literal creatures. I alone will talk to him. Prince Wolfram, do __**not**__ forget this."_

-{

"Are you ready?"

Yuuri looked around at his advisors, his husband and Murata. Their faces washed out in the dim watery glow of the Temple's inner sanctum.

No he really _wasn't_. He'd never be ready, not even for the rest of his life, which is why it was so important he do this now. As much as he wanted to run and jump into the fountain, to go home back to his familiar childhood country...he faltered with that thought. Could he take Wolfram with him?

No, of course not, this was his husband's home. Now it was his. He didn't think he'd ever lose that urge to run away, to go home, but maybe that home could be replaced with his family here.  
Shin Makoku needed him and he wanted to be here, despite how hard it was. How hard it would be.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Murata nodded at his reply and handed him a goblet filled with dark liquid.

"This is the concoction I prepared before. The key ingredient is the leaves of the sacred tree. The tree is the heart of the Kingdom and witness to the first contract all those years ago. It will help bring forth the Maou. The taste will be bitter, but you must drink it all in one go. The effect will take a few minutes, enough time for us to erect a barrier. Once you do this, there is no turning back." Murata's tone was soft but firm.

Yuuri nodded as he held the goblet. In that space inside of him the spirit lurched sensing that something was happening. He didn't even bother to rein it in. Soon enough it would take over.

Wolfram touched his elbow to get his attention and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, quite surprising considering Gwendal's presence.

"Yuuri, I love you. I'll be here the whole time." Wolfram whispered.

Yuuri nodded his throat suddenly tight. He couldn't trust his voice but he hoped that Wolfram could see how much such a gesture meant and that he took comfort knowing Wolfram would be there...during the transformation.

With a quick nod to Murata and the others he tipped the liquid into his mouth. The urge to gag and spit out the bitter almost acidic taste was strong but he closed his eyes and swallowed it all down and handed the goblet carefully back to Murata. Nothing was to stay within the circle other than himself and the clothes he wore...and his pendant, which he touched nervously tucked away behind his jacket. Murata didn't think the Maou could use it, now so attuned to his soul.

He watched as his friends and husband hopped over the water barrier and positioned themselves facing him, Wolfram to the right, Murata in front of him. Günter whose hair was tied back severely matching his unusual solemn expression was next to Gwendal on the left.

At first nothing happened. He kept his eyes on Wolfram who although deep in concentration maintained eye contact. Wolfram's eyes remained steadily on his as Murata started the ancient mazoku incantation. He could feel the magic gathering in the room, the hairs on the back of his arms rose like static electricity. The Maou was now fully aware and awake in his mind, curious and perplexed. So strange to feel its power while he felt calm and not overcome by anger or fear for others.

As the ancient spirit's influence gained strength he could feel the beginning of the change. The room's dimness becoming brighter, the quality of the air altering, smells becoming sharper. And yet he kept his eyes on Wolfram, beautiful golden Wolfram. _My mate_. Was the last thought before thoughts ended and Yuuri ceased to be.

-{

"Why have you called me forth eldest one?" the Maou demanded, hair long, blue glow menacing in the shadowy temple hall.

"You do not know?" Murata asked the surprise in his voice plain to everyone there. "Have you not seen what has been talked about the last few days?"

"No, this one will not let me see. I can only feel what he feels, bound only by emotion. It is only when he is angry that his ties on me have loosened." The Maou made as if to move and the shield that they had erected strained. He could feel the energy from himself and the other being called upon.

"You have bound me, why?"

The look he gave Murata contained ill-concealed fury. Murata needed to tread cautiously.

"It's been a while since I have seen you. You didn't recognise me when we were on human territory, closing the box. I was afraid you had gone insane like you've done before."

"It is the vessels that give me this insanity as they give me awareness. This one is strong. I do not recall seeing you within this vessel. So much I forget." Murata had to decipher the disconnected words that were said with such a strange perplexed tone. "This one's soul is strong. Yet he fears me."

The elemental being's glow became stronger, almost blinding. Yet the strain on the shield stopped immediately. Murata had to restrain himself from being magically overbalanced. It was like playing Tug of War and having the opponents suddenly let go. The shield was tied into the spell and without one the other would fall and he didn't quite trust the Maou's assertions yet. From his left he could hear Bielefeld gasp as he also tried to keep balanced.

Wolfram's gasp brought the feline-like gaze of the Maou.

"This new soul here, the Golden one is my mate and is this one's beloved." The look he gave Wolfram was both soft and predatory at the same time. "I would not harm him even for my own safety."

That was a positive for now but alarming. The elemental being's first concern was of its safety, the safety of the land the mazoku inhabited. That Yuuri feelings had so permeated the Maou that he was willing to put Bielefeld above that and that Shibuya was willing to put him above the common good of the people was a potential problem for the future. He forcefully pushed that aside, he had to focus on the problem in front of him now.

"You have not merged with Shibuya yet, the soul you coexist with."

The Maou's attention was diverted back to Murata. He dared not get distracted by any reaction by the Prince, the 'Golden one'. Mortals were fragile when it came to their own reality. He was afraid that the Maou would reveal more about their previous incarnations, for the Maou, like himself remembered although his sense of linear time was much fuzzier and his perspective came from a truly foreign mind. He knew this session would bring questions, but _the least_ he was afraid of was Wolfram finding out his was young and only as old as his current and first life.

There were worst things. He was glad that he had kept Lord Weller out of this, he shuddered to think what the Maou would have said to him.

"This soul is strong." the Maou repeated. "Stronger than your first mate, eldest one."

The look the Maou gave him was but a shadow of the look he had given Bielefeld. Of course the Maou would remember Shinou; his personality had been a force to be reckoned with.

He also knew Yuuri was strong. He and Shinou had worked so hard to position such a soul for the challenges of defeating Soushu, a soul that could contain the ever growing self-awareness of the element of the land without self-destructing or falling into insanity. To hear that Shibuya was stronger truly surprised him. Shibuya was such a gentle soul, but such softness covered strength untapped.

"He will not let me in. I do not think I could break through if I tried. He is afraid of losing his self, even if this self is but an illusion."

He really couldn't blame Yuuri, he didn't think he would like to be merged with an elemental spirit if given a choice. Unfortunately for Shibuya it had never been a choice, his soul was already irrevocably tied with the Maou from the moment its spirit was bound to his soul before conception.

Shibuya would never be rid of it until death, and even then the merge would leave an indelible shadow on his karma. Both he and Shinou never knew what they were playing when they had captured the Maou. They were children, naive to the long term consequences and the price that so many would pay for it.

He felt his strength faltering; he'd need to find a solution soon. Even now he could sense Lord von Voltaire's power come to its end. Voltaire had great precision, but he was the weakest user of the trio. It would take months to set another summoning, far too late, and these dreams were giving him a sense of urgency.

"You know the solution eldest one." it was as if the Maou could read his mind, and who knew, maybe it could? "You have tried it before." gently chiding. But that had...

"No, that is not an option!"

"It is the only option, this soul will not yield and I dare not break myself or it by force. If this soul needs the full power of the contract, this is the only path."

"I _cannot _be the anchor this time, in this body. I do not have the strength for that and channel the spell." For the first time he cursed his human weakness.

"Another can. My Golden one will anchor this soul, _our_ time is no more." This was the Maou asserting its will, whether it was an extension of Shibuya's feelings or its own it made no practical difference.

"I will do it." Wolfram said his voice strong and steady.

"Bielefeld!" he warned, his voice cracking in alarm. _I told you not to talk. You do not know what you are agreeing to. _

"My life is Yuuri's, I will do whatever is necessary to keep him strong, and to keep him whole." The Prince said, ignoring Murata's warning. Bielefeld addressed the Maou "I give you my word."

"Accepted." the Maou replied with finality.

"No" he protested. Although he knew any protest now was futile. "Bielefeld is far too young, Maou, there must be another solution?"

"It is decided, it has happened, it will happen."

Without further word, the Maou's spirit left and Yuuri crumpled to his knees, barely conscious. The darkness pronounced with the absence of its blue light.


	9. Chapter 9

**Warnings: ** Some sexual references.

**Summary: **Tension between Yozak and Conrad escalates and Yuuri makes a difficult decision.

**Notes: **I edited the last of this with a hangover, you have been warned ;)

* * *

Before Yozak had started sleeping with the man he had always roughly divided in his head the two personalities of Murata. He'd called them simply Ken and the Great Sage. Ken was the boy, no man, he knew this well enough now. Yes the man with a wicked sense of humour, a keen sense of the absurd and a playful character.

Those traits had initially drawn him to Ken. The Great Sage was mysterious, hard, cynical and absolutely merciless when required. The Great Sage turned him on, had turned him on for a long time. He loved Ken, but loved to be fucked by the Great Sage. It was a contradiction he purposefully didn't dwell on.

Yozak wasn't much for self-analysis. He liked what he liked and he didn't get hung up on it like he'd seen others do. The humans and their pointless guilt causing taboos came to mind and he only had to look at the young King to see how well that worked.

He often wondered what it was about enigmatic and ethically challenged men which he had a penchant for. First it had been the Captain, then Murata. Both of them could be downright terrifying when it came to their principles. Though at least he knew where Ken stood, Conrad had never been that easy. He shied away from those troubling thoughts; there was no point in comparing. That part of his life was over.

When he started getting to know Ken well he realised that that division between his personas wasn't so cut and dry. It wasn't so much private versus public as he had originally thought. Ken was complicated and underneath unexpectedly tender and thoughtful. His feelings for Murata were a constant paradox. In many ways Ken was a paradox. He knew so little about him and he kept so many secrets, yet he was someone he couldn't help but trust. Despite all the mystery surrounding him Ken seemed so familiar, as if he'd known him forever.

He stretched his legs and looked up. The sun was reaching its zenith; less than an hour since the King and the others had entered the Temple. No signal yet, Shinou help them if there was one. He was tempted to sit down on the Temple stairs but he knew from experience that it was better to have stiff legs than sitting on one's arse exposed when all hell broke loose.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horse galloping towards him on the small trail leading up to the Temple. He sighed as he spotted the familiar brown horse as it came into sight. He'd hoped that the Captain would have been kept busier for longer. This was going to be difficult.

Lord Conrad Weller's face was unreadable as he got off his horse and stalked half-way up the stairs towards Yozak who was waiting with feigned patience.

"The ritual has started?" Conrad asked his tone flat.

Yozak nodded and placed his arms behind his head in a non-threatening manner. "About half an hour ago, His Eminence had no idea how long the ritual would take." He leaned up against the wall next to the entrance; Conrad didn't seem interested in walking up further.

There was an awkward silence between them. Perhaps a distraction was in order. It wasn't what he wanted to bring up here and now of all places...but...

"I've noticed you've been a little unsettled lately, Captain," he toed an imaginary pebble on the ground, head bent. He looked up when there wasn't an immediate response.

Conrad was giving him a bland look that revealed little. "Things have been hectic, what with the marriage, conspiracies against the King, the usual."

_You never give an inch do you Conrad._ Yozak dropped his arms and folded them across his chest, still leaning up against the wall.

"Besides," Conrad continued smoothly with only a hint of derision. "I'm not the only one to be distracted. The Great Sage has been running you ragged I see."

_Oh, so this is how he wanted to play it._ Yozak clenched his fists, resigned to one of their periodic non-fights.

"Now see here _Captain_..." But before he could continue he stopped suddenly, watching as Conrad's eyes narrowed, his head cocked to one side. _Oh shit!_

"Is that acetium powder I can smell?" Conrad's voice was dark as his eyes narrowed.

There was no way he could evade Conrad's suspicions but he needed to buy some time. He resisted the impulse to clamp his hand on his sword grip. It might come to that...but he didn't want to be the first to escalate tensions.

"Is this why you sent me to the city? Was that lead a fabrication?" Conrad's loud voice was more accusation than question.

No it wasn't, the lead had been genuine but he knew it would have kept Conrad busy for a while, perhaps long enough for him to miss the ritual entirely. Apparently that was wishful thinking.

"I have no idea what you mean." Even to his own ears it sounded false. He was never good at lying to Conrad and he'd had plenty of time to practice.

Conrad's shoulder slumped slightly and he closed his eyes for a second.

"Is that the _best_ you can do, Yozak? Such a _pathetic_ lie from the spymaster. Why are explosives rigged? What did the Great Sage order you to do?"

Conrad started up the steps and Yozak moved to block his way. He didn't think he could make Conrad understand, but he tried anyway.

"He wanted to ensure the Kingdom's safety if the Maou turned against them. It's a last resort, _Conrad_. He thought it was necessary and I know he would not ask something like this without reason."

"Are you _insane?_ Why would the Maou wish us ill? Its will is to protect the land. Disable it at once!" _The land yes. _ Yozak thought. _But what about the people?_

Conrad was nearly at the top of the stairs and Yozak had no choice but to bar his way. He took only one step down; if it came to a fight it would be best to maintain the higher ground.

"Sorry Captain, no can do." And this time he did put his hand on his sword grip. Yozak knew he could never win in a fight even with the height advantage. Conrad would forever be the superior swordsman but winning wasn't his objective, he only needed to slow Conrad down, give Murata more time.

"Yozak, my job is to protect _His _Majesty. Either let me through or..." The slide of Conrad's sword as he started to unsheathe was unnaturally loud and Conrad's eyes had become empty, void of emotion. Did it really have to come to this?

"Conrad _stand _down!"

The young King's voice rang loud and clear. Yozak turned in surprised relief to see the King emerge. The King was leaning on the Prince, his body radiated exhaustion but his expression was serious.

Next to them stood the Great Sage, one strand of his hair had fallen free from his tie but otherwise he was impeccable his expression like a stone.

"Brother what are you doing?" Wolfram's voice rang out in confusion. Stiffly Conrad let his sword fall back in its scabbard. Now Lord von Voltaire and Lord von Christ had appeared behind the trio.

"His Eminence had ordered that explosives be set in the Temple if anything untoward was to happen, I did not think such an action was necessary." Conrad's tone was uncertain; he didn't even look at Yozak.

The look of surprise that crossed von Christ and von Voltaire face was clear, Wolfram's was schooled in indifference with only a hint of a frown. Murata as expected gave no reaction at all but Yozak picked up on the barely visible tremble of his fingers and the overly rigid way he held himself, a sign that he was tired or distressed. Probably both. He doubted anyone else would have noticed, very few people knew Murata as well as he did or had spent so much time watching him. Murata was very good at concealing his feelings but Yozak was very good at watching.

But it was the King's reaction which startled him. A dark unreadable look flashed in his eyes that brought to mind the Maou's fury, but it was gone instantly. So quickly that Yozak wondered if he had imagined it but he was certain Murata would have noticed, most certainly Conrad would have. Yuuri's eyes closed briefly in weariness before he spoke.

"I had asked that Murata make sure to secure the Temple if anything went wrong." He gave Murata another unreadable glance, this time restrained."He was acting on my orders."

There was silence as everyone considered the King's words. Wolfram's frown had deepened and Yozak turned in time to catch Conrad giving the King a strangely vulnerable uncertain look. He ruthlessly pushed aside the faint hurt at seeing such honest feeling in his ex-lover's face. As much as he wanted to pretend otherwise he still loved Conrad, he doubtless always would.

"The King is exhausted." Wolfram said with authority which belied his seemingly youthful appearance. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, Your Eminence," his gaze was fully on the Great Sage. Nobody would be in doubt that Wolfram had issue with Murata over the latest revelation. The King's eyes were drooping and von Christ came forward to help Wolfram bring him down the stairs.

Conrad turned to him briefly "I trust you'll remove the explosives this afternoon."

There was nothing he could say, there was so much he wanted to. "Of course, Captain." By then Conrad had moved to retrieve the horses for the King, not even bothering to wait for his response. Yozak remained on the stairs as Lord von Voltaire went past him silently, no acknowledgement.

Ken went down to stand beside him, and together they watched the King's entourage leave the Temple grounds, the King practically asleep behind Wolfram on his white mare.

"Well, that could have gone better." Ken pulled his glasses off to rub his eyes. Tentatively Yozak placed his hand on his back and rubbed it in support as he watched Conrad's retreating form.

* * *

He didn't want to do it but he could see no way out. He'd kept telling himself that for years now. Up until today he'd been able to live in denial. All he was doing was passing information on, inside information about the activities of the King. He'd bet there were spies in all kinds of positions in the Castle doing the exact same thing, he was no different.

Things had gotten complicated when he'd become close to the Princess. She was a good kid, reminded him of his little sister Heidi. He'd hated having to take advantage of her crush like that and even more so the generosity of his Captain.

When he'd first taken this assignment he'd heard about him. Youngest son of the former Queen. Prince Wolfram, as pretty as he was spoilt, had a temper, the strongest fire wielder in the Kingdom; a blue blood of the highest order from the oldest and most powerful family of the twelve Aristocrats.

He wasn't doing this for anyone other than the protection of his sisters, but it had made it easier to think he was working against a spoilt Prince.

He'd never factored in that he'd come to admire Bielefeld. Who was yes, hot tempered and proud but incredibly supportive and loyal to his men. Or that his adoptive daughter would be so kind to someone like him, from minor nobility.

He'd also never factored in that Bielefeld would get engaged to the newly appointed King, or that the powerful Aristocrat he was working for would use this to undermine the Crown. He'd only been spying; he had no interest in treason. He was a loyalist and the King was a kind man.

He still didn't have a choice; Ava was married now, so he didn't have to worry about her. Ava had married well and to a man who loved her, but there was still Heidi and Miranda to protect and provide for.

When he'd received his latest orders he'd spent most of a sleepless night contemplating confessing all to his Captain, the Prince Consort. Begging on his mercy, but now he was working _against_ the King, the man who Prince Wolfram loved and had vowed to protect. He could see no mercy for such as himself, at the worst he'd be hanged, at the best he'd be given leave to end his own life to protect his family honour; either way that would leave his sisters alone and penniless.

He removed the deadly powder from its pouch dark in the lamplight. Then mixed it with the other ingredients carefully following the instructions he'd been given. This was the final step, once this action took place there would be no turning back. He would be...he was now a traitor. He carefully pulled out the arrows and coated them with the dangerous substance.

He cursed his dead father for putting him in this position; he cursed himself for being so weak not to find a way out and he asked forgiveness of Shinou and his soul as he placed the deadly arrows in his quiver.

* * *

When Yuuri woke it was midmorning. The sun had gone high enough that it was no longer directly shining into their chambers and the light in the room still had that morning clarity of lightness. He'd slept from the moment he'd passed out yesterday afternoon, such a long time sleeping. With a stretch he rolled over and was faced by a pair of green eyes regarding him.

Wolfram touched his shoulder lightly. "How do you feel?"

He felt...he felt good. Even though he had managed to stay conscious after the Maou's visit he had been exhausted, drained of energy. The conflict between Yozak and Conrad...and the surprise revelation about Murata's actions had exhausted him further.

He didn't want to think about Murata. His friend had a point, he had asked him to make sure that the Maou never escaped...but such drastic actions!

"I'm fine. I feel good." He shot Wolfram a bright smile.

He also felt deeply relieved. The Maou had been called forth and nothing bad had happened. He looked at Wolfram.

"You said you had things to tell me?"

Yesterday he had been utterly exhausted. Immediately after the ritual Murata had told him with grim seriousness that they needed to talk as soon as Yuuri was able. Gwendal and Günter had said nothing about what had happened, but they barely had the time to do so. He'd meant to ask Wolfram when they got to their rooms, but at the time he could hardly keep his eyes open. He must have been exhausted to sleep all those hours; it had been such a long time since the Maou had affected him so.

Now he felt great, the Maou was still there. Always there, he could feel it, but it was oddly quiet, more patient than usual.

"What did the Maou say?" He asked another question to fill in the silence. He watched as Wolfram's eyes became distant, remembering.

"He seemed to recognise the Great Sage, which makes sense in a way. The Maou was in Shinou and Shinou knew the Great Sage. The Maou doesn't see people, but their souls." Wolfram added, thinking out loud.

"I think that the Great Sage was Shinou's lover in that life." Wolfram added further.

That...really wasn't a surprise. Yuuri had suspected that for a long time now, even before Soushou was defeated. What did surprise him was how calm Wolfram was in saying this, because if the Maou had been within Shinou when he'd been the Great Sage's lover, why wasn't he jealous?

"He also said that I was your beloved, and his mate." Wolfram's face was red as he said this, his green eyes looking away in embarrassment.

"Your beloved?" he repeated dumbly. What did that mean? Is that what the Maou saw in his mind, was that he felt?

Wolfram abruptly sat up, his back against the bed head, knees drawn up, arms around his pink clad knees.

"But he probably didn't know you well enough, you have shut him out." Wolfram said in a subdued tone.

No, no, this wasn't what Yuuri wanted to see, Wolfram withdrawing like that. He had to think, he had to process, but he had no time.

"I _do_ care." He blurted out, exactly what he had said the other night.

"Right." Wolfram said distantly, "Of course, Yuuri."

Yuuri floundered at Wolfram's hurt. His mind whirled at possible things to say, and each he discarded. He was afraid of saying something that would make things worse. It was easier to focus on more immediate matters.

"What else happened?" Dutifully Wolfram told him all that had taken place at the ritual.

"Oh _Wolf_, Murata told you not to talk to the Maou."

Wolfram became defensive, "Someone was needed for this and it seemed like the only option, the Great Sage could not."

Yuuri sighed and removed the covers, sliding so he was sitting at the edge of the bed.

"We'll have the meeting today and see what we can...but what Murata did. With Yozak and the explosives, I wasn't happy with it." He said this to the floor.

"Then why didn't you reprimand him?" Wolfram asked him quietly.

Yuuri turned to look at Wolfram, instead of the critical look he was expecting Wolfram looked merely curious, his arms still protectively up around his knees.

"Because...well I'd like to say it was because of his position, that I didn't want to show there was a rift, but honestly, it was because he's my friend."

"You wimp," Wolfram responded with a tinge of fondness.

"Maybe I am a little. Was what I did wrong?" he watched as Wolfram considered his question.

"No, I don't think so. But you're right in saying that his position is more important than friendship. Yuuri, I understand why he did what he did...sometimes hard decisions have to be made for the greater good."

"But he should have told me!"

"Sometimes, when you give orders you need to trust those under you to make the right decisions. It's not possible to do everything."Wolfram stated calmly.

"But...Wolfram, he could have killed us, Gwendal, Günter and you Wolfram, he could have killed _you_." He swallowed around the lump that was forming in his throat, giving Wolfram an anguished look.

Wolfram shrugged, letting go of his knees and crawling over so that he was sitting next to Yuuri placing ahand lightly on Yuuri's shoulder. "That bothers me a little too, but what would have happened if the Maou had taken over and he was insane? What would have happened to the people of Shin Makoku then?"

There was silence while Yuuri processed this.

"I think I understand, but part of me is very angry at him, it feels a bit like a betrayal." He looked down at his hands uneasily.

"You said you talked to him about this?"

Yuuri had told Wolfram a little about the conversation he had earlier with Murata about communication.

"Yeah, I thought it worked." He brooded on this, not wanting to say bad things about his friend, after all he had quite a few pressures in his position and Yuuri was not blind to these. He had his own now.

Yuuri didn't want to cause any conflict, or embarrass Murata, he wanted to be seen as a strong King, but he wasn't sure how he was to resolve their differences. He sighed, really didn't want to deal with this now, one problem at a time.

"I don't think I want to do anything at the moment. We're all under some stress, maybe it's better to wait?" He finished what he said in more of a question.

He knew that there would always be some crisis, he'd given up on the expectation that Shin Makoku would ever see perfect peace a while back while he refused to let go of the ideal. For now, this crisis was more personal and he had little energy to confront Murata now, especially since he wasn't sure if Murata was entirely in the wrong. He really needed Wolfram's reassurance.

Wolfram looked thoughtful and this warmed Yuuri inside. Being King was such a burden. If he'd known at fifteen what he was getting himself into he wasn't entirely certain he would have stayed.

He wasn't proud of those thoughts. He had great and true friends who helped him, but as time had gone on he'd found himself becoming more distant from his advisors. He was afraid of disappointing them, so it had been harder, with some things to be as outspoken and open as he'd been at fifteen.

Somewhere along the way it had dawned on him that as life continued and he'd become more familiar with his role that the distance would get greater. He recalled his conversation with Wolfram under the Sacred Tree about team work, was he being naive even then?

He did not intend to become anyone like Belar or some of the other Monarchs he had met in this world, surrounded by vipers, paranoid as a matter of survival.

There were vipers in the castle but he was surrounded by trusted friends who would protect and guard him from them. He would not need to be secretive to protect himself, but...he needed to give them hope. He needed them to let him take control and that meant there would be distance.

This gave him a bigger appreciation for Wolfram. With marriage he'd shown his desire to help Yuuri to share the burden. To Murata he was Shibuya, the destined messiah of the Kingdom. To the others he was King. Even Conrad, who he was closest to, _had been_ closest too most...in his eyes he saw expectations he wasn't sure he was worthy of. And it made him immensely lonely.

"It might be better to wait." Wolfram agreed. "It's getting intense now. It is understandable that the Great Sage would be more...cautious. We cannot forget that Lord Rochford and Michael are working against us. His Eminence can be harsh, but such judgements are needed at times like this."

Unspoken between them was the understanding that Murata would be willing to do things that Yuuri, could not, would not do. Yuuri wondered if that made it better, if he turned the other way, ignored what the Great Sage did. But he didn't think so.

The Michael Wagner situation still weighed on them both. With Beatrice visiting Greta had been easily distracted by Anissina with various outings and activities while their daughter excitedly showed Beatrice around. Thus keeping her safe from Michael Wagner and unaware of the anxiety her parents was under.

Out of everyone he wanted to protect the most, it was Greta. Before she'd found a home with them she'd seen enough horror and heartbreak that people twice her age had never seen. He wanted Greta to have a safe adolescence. Free of the stress that Yuuri had at fifteen (even with loving parents and friends) and that Wolfram would have seen growing up.

He knew that Wolfram felt the same, which reminded him about his desire to find out more about Lucas. He was still curious about that time, and the events surrounding Richard Rochford's death. He'd asked Wolfram only once briefly after that strategy meeting and Wolfram had answered tersely. "It was a long time ago." The way he'd answered told Yuuri that there was far more to the tale. Then again, with all that was happening, the revelation of Michael Wagner's betrayal and Lord Rochford's hand in treason it was not surprising that it was something Wolfram wanted to forget.

With a mental shrug, he stretched his back and got up and turned to Wolfram.

"Time to face the world!"

* * *

The seal on the earthen jar was broken. Murata frowned and carefully tipped the jar over onto a leather cloth he'd brought, it was empty. He looked around at the contents of the other shelves, covered with dust in the sealed library archives. Nothing else seemed to have been interrupted.

He had no way of knowing when the powdery substance had been taken; it could have been last week, last month or three hundred years ago. There had been a magical seal placed on it when he was last here but that was well over six hundred years ago and the protection had long since faded. He closed his eyes and concentrated, he could detect a faint presence. A magical scent of someone who had been here before, but it was too little of it for him to make any reading and it could have been anyone. The only thing he was sure of was it wasn't von Christ, he could feel his presence in other areas and it had a very distinct and different feel.

He'd have to assume that it was taken a long time ago, and any damage had could have caused was well and truly in the past. Fortunately he had a stash hidden away in the one eyed ceramic dragon in the basement, along with a few other hidden places across the Kingdom. Seems like his paranoia had paid off, for without this substance he'd never be able to make the merge, he put away his blue pouch and headed down to the basement.

* * *

Conrad has been a constant presence ever since he had arrived in Shin Makoku so he had noticed his absences after he'd married Wolfram. Yuuri had developed a theory that Conrad was trying to give he and Wolfram space as newlyweds. He blanched at the full implications of this; there was still a lot he was getting used to with marriage. A major part was dealing with everyone's assumptions about his _intimacy_ with Wolfram, which was...well it was awkward, especially around Wolfram's brothers. To think that everyone thought they were having sex!

It wasn't that he found the idea altogether disagreeable. Intimacy with Wolfram, _when it_ happened, _if it_ happened; which was an entire world of anxiety it itself which he didn't want to touch on. It just...it was a part of adult experience which he was still getting accustomed to and Shin Makoku was far more open with sex that he'd been brought up with in Japan. In Japan, it was polite to ignore these things, at least in mixed company. It had never been the case in Shin Makoku.

It would take a little while, probably a _long while_ before he was comfortable with this and he'd never be comfortable with Lady Celie's innuendo at the breakfast table, or the giggles of the maids when he and Wolfram went anywhere near them.

His other theory was that Conrad was allowing Wolfram to take a bit more responsibility with Royal security. Yuuri could deal with that reason much better. There was also the ongoing tension between Conrad and Wolfram, but Yuuri wasn't sure what to make of that.

Either way Yuuri had found he had missed his godfather's company and his observations and advice. It was strange that now that he really wanted to talk to Conrad he was nowhere to be found. It had never been that way before.

He was eventually able to track Conrad down, in of all places the upper balcony in the west wing tower. He was practically dead when he made it up the spiral stairs, he may be quite fit when it came to running, or stamina with sword practice but the stairs were painful, forcing him to use his leg muscles in different ways.

"You know Conrad, if you want some time alone, you're free to use our balcony in my chambers." _And it would save me the pain of leg cramps._

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, if I'd have known you'd wanted me I would have been closer by." Conrad said, giving him a slight smile.

"It's OK, and it's Yuuri!" But his protest was more out of habit these days. It was rare indeed to hear his godfather use his name these days. Few people did now and it depressed him a little.

He looked out at the view, as Conrad resumed his position of leaning against the turret walls.

"Wow, it really is a beautiful country, check out the mountains, that's the Nargap Divide isn't it?"

"I see you've been paying attention to your studies." Conrad said looking at him with fond amusement. Yuuri felt a bit strange for an instant, realising he was almost as tall as Conrad. _When did that happen? _He shook his head and continued looking out over at the mountains in the distance.

"Heh, some of it is bound to stick, besides Wolfram won't let me slack off for a second." He shrugged, and Yuuri felt the atmosphere change as almost imperceptibly Conrad tensed.

"I'm sure His Majesty didn't climb up these stairs just to chat about geographical trivia." Conrad noted blandly.

"No, though the view is worth it." The wind up so high was fresh and whipped his hair around his face. It was cool enough to make him grateful for his long sleeved black jacket. He could hear the distant shouts of Gwendal's men doing exercises in the practice fields below. "I just wanted to apologise for yesterday, for yelling at you in front of everyone."

"No apologies are necessary, Your Majesty. I was out of line." _Oh Conrad._

"Were you told?" Conrad asked suddenly. The abrupt question took Yuuri by surprise and it took him a moment to work out what Conrad was asking.

"About the explosives?" Conrad nodded agreement. "No," Yuuri continued after a pause. "But I told Murata to ensure the safety of everyone; he had a good reason for what he did, although I'd rather it had never happened." He let out a long sigh.

"The Great Sage _always_ has a good reason."

Yuuri was baffled by Conrad's bitter tone. It had been years since the Shoushou box incident and as far as he knew Conrad had gotten along with Murata ever since. Conrad generally got along with everyone, apart from the tensions with Wolfram...and the conflict yesterday with Yozak. _Oh!_

He knew about the relationship between Murata and Yozak and at first it has made him feel uncomfortable. Yozak was so much older and though he wasn't proud of it considering he had a very male husband he found it weird to think of his childhood friend in a relationship with another man. Murata had always been very vocal about his appreciation for girls even if at times he'd also made admiring comments about Wolfram and other guys. At the time Yuuri thought it was Murata being a joker and winding him up, Murata always had such a quirky sense of humour. But he guessed that Murata really did like guys after all.

There was also a little voice inside of him still insisting that that type of relationship shouldn't be flaunted, that it was shameful, but that was such an unfair thing to think. He seemed happy with Yozak, although it was always hard to tell with Murata, the guy was hard to read. But Yuuri had always believed that everyone should be allowed to follow their heart, and he wasn't going to make any exceptions for anyone. He looked over at Conrad who was gazing out over the landscape.

Conrad was probably upset because he wasn't seeing Yozak as much anymore so he blamed Murata for this. It wasn't fair but it was understandable. Not that Yuuri ever had similar situations in his past but he remembered his older brother being upset at his friend in high school when he got a girlfriend and didn't have as much time to do gaming and hang out as much with Shori. That was probably how Conrad was feeling. He couldn't think of a way to make things better though, his Godfather always got a bit funny when he tried to talk about his life or his relationship with others. Yozak was easier to speak to.

Silently Yuuri resolved to talk to Yozak later on, when things had settled down.

"Are you fine, Your Majesty? Did the ritual go as well as you wished?"

Yuuri wished that he could be completely honest with Conrad about his problems and his concerns regarding Wolfram but there were some things that brothers should never know. Wolfram would kill him if he told Conrad and he wouldn't blame him. The thought of anyone talking to Shori about his sex life, or lack thereof, well was too horribly embarrassing to imagine. Even without those considerations, to talk to Conrad about such a personal matter himself would be impossible. To drag it out in front of Murata was bad enough. With that in mind he replied.

"It went well enough. It's always frightening to let the Maou take over, but if it makes me a better King then it's worth it."

"You are already a good King, Yuuri." Conrad told him gently. He basked in one of the few moments that his Godfather used his name.

"But I can be _better_; this power will give me the ability to protect all my friends. As it is now it always takes the harm or injury of someone before the Maou takes over. I'm not in control then. People have _died_, Conrad because I can't control it."

The image of the little boy who died on his third day in the Kingdom came to mind, even worst to think that his personal problem with Wolfram, such a selfish desire had brought him to Murata for advice. No matter what Murata had assured him about the eventual merge with the Maou, he had only dragged things out because he was afraid of losing control. It was ironic that his fear of not being in control ensured that he never mastered the capability to truly take charge of his power.

His fears were less important than the safety of the people, and all the sacrifices that Murata had made to give him this power, to ignore it, to not use it would be such a grievous crime against all he believed in. He had made that agreement in his past life and it was time to take on that responsibility.

Conrad's frown showed he didn't agree and Yuuri couldn't think of anything more he could say. After all, it had been hard to convince Wolfram of the same thing a few nights go, somehow he didn't think that bringing up Julia decision would make Conrad understand, he instinctively knew that it would only cause pain.

"We're meeting with Murata today, to work out what next to do."

"We?" Conrad's eyebrow quirked.

"Wolfram and I, Wolfram will need to assist me with this." He wasn't going to explain further.

"I see...well I'm always happy to assist if you need me in anyway, Your Majesty."

That strange tension was back. "Well," Yuuri scratched his hair self-consciously, I best be onto it then."

Conrad nodded.

Yuuri turned to leave...

"Your Majesty?" Conrad said tentatively just before he got to the arched entrance.

Yuuri looked back expectantly. Maybe it was his imagination but Conrad looked a little more...vulnerable than usual.

"Just try...to be careful."

Yuuri gave Conrad what he hoped was a reassuring type smile.

"Of course." After all, this was way too important to stuff up.

* * *

Wolfram had always looked up to the Great Sage, much as he had greats reverence for Shinou, Shin Makoku and the Crown. He had always been mindful of the protocols and hyper-aware of the divisions and establishment of the Crown and the Aristocracy.

He was a mazoku Prince and soldier in that order and it wasn't until he had gotten to know Yuuri and fell in love with him that he'd started to see the Crown as more than something to obey. If he ever had cause to articulate those thoughts, most unlikely, many people would have been surprised. For hadn't Prince Wolfram been brought up with the least regal Monarch in recent history? But it was in spite of his mother's melodramatics and constant need for male companionship and approval that Wolfram had established a strict sense of what was Proper and Correct.

The Great Sage was equal to the King and as such beyond reproach but his loyalties would always be to the King first. This left Wolfram in an uncomfortable position. Those concerns were foremost in Wolfram's mind when he found himself seated opposite the Great Sage in Yuuri's private meeting room, adjacent to their personal chambers.

At the last minute Yuuri had been called to sign some emergency papers for requisition of supplies for a landslide disaster in an outer Province. Consequently the Prince was left alone to face Murata.

The Great Sage had his bland, slightly amused face, the one that Wolfram had learnt to be wary of and it was fast becoming the number one irritation for him. But perhaps this could be used as an opportunity.

"In some ways," Wolfram began carefully. "You and I have similar views when it comes to this country and leadership." In others not so much, but this wasn't the right time to mention that.

"We both see things in a more pragmatic way unlike Yuuri who was never raised in this world. I understand why you did what you did with the explosives. But next time; if you feel the need to make such a decision which affects the Kingdom considerably, see me first. If I think it has merit." Wolfram shrugged lightly. "I'll talk to him about it."

Murata raised one eyebrow, obviously not expecting this from him. There was something a little patronising about it, Wolfram felt. But he couldn't put his finger on why. It made his teeth hurt and he forcibly pushed down his irritation. He was doing this for Yuuri's sake, and the Kingdom.

"Don't _misunderstand_ me." Wolfram continued, not bothering to wait for any immediate response. "I'll always take Yuuri's word over anyone's, and defend his decisions to the death. I'll never lie to him, or hide things from him. He is my husband first and foremost, and he's..._he's Yuuri_. He will be a great King." There was no doubt.

The Wise Man cocked his head to one side and adjusted his glasses. Wolfram thought he could see a look of sadness in his eyes, but it might have been the lighting for the Great Sage rarely showed any genuine feeling.

"I don't expect many people to understand why I do things, Your Highness. I see things from a bigger perspective, for the long term. With the small things, it's not that they don't matter, it's just...they matter less. I don't expect others to see it that way, so it's best not to try."

"So you prefer to manipulate things from the sidelines?" It was more of a statement than question and Wolfram tried to hide the contempt he felt, unsuccessfully he was sure.

The Great Wise man shrugged his shoulders slightly, as if to say it wasn't even worth answering such an obvious question.

"Do not manipulate the King and I." He was serious with this. No matter how important the Great Sage was, no matter how revered his position, he would take action if he felt that the wise man was threatening Yuuri's position or causing Yuuri grief.

The Great Sage leaned forward a little and looked him directly in the eye.

"Then let's make a deal, you and me. I'll come to you with anything I'm not sure about, if you promise me one thing."

"What-" he stopped abruptly as the Great Sage looked behind him, over his shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late." Yuuri said walking through the door behind Wolfram. Yuuri walked around from behind and gave Wolfram that soft dopey smile that made his insides lurch. The look he gave the Great Sage was neutral but still friendly. It looked like Yuuri wasn't going to confront his childhood friend about the incident at the Temple.

That was the easiest decision for now, there were more immediate concerns facing them. Wolfram would continue the strange conversation alone with his Eminence later.

* * *

He didn't know what prompted him to make that offer to the Prince when he wasn't sure he could keep to it even if Prince Wolfram lived. He would reconsider that option later if necessary.

Murata knew he came across as an unfeeling schemer to the Prince. It was a role he could and would play perfectly. He had no intention of interfering too much in Yuuri's affairs, and he hoped, when the present crisis was resolved he wouldn't have to do anything further. He'd just wanted...a quiet life; to offer advice to the King every now and again; to find a little happiness with a few lovers or one particular love before returning to the wheel.

He knew karma existed. He'd seen it enacted in the same souls he came across life after life. Karma was plausible to him. Shinou had never given him any hints about the afterlife and when the subject had come up he'd been evasive. When Murata had eventually called him on it, Shinou had said it wasn't something he was allowed talk about. After a few lifetimes Murata had figured the cycle no longer applied to him, after all he remembered the whole lot, all four thousand years. It stood to reason karma did not apply, he had to learn things himself, alone.

Anyone would think that Murata had the advantage, to remember, but he knew better. This was punishment for his sins, just like it was Shinou's to spend so long guarding over this world, not being able to be reborn and not being able to love and hold, cut off from human touch. Their crimes were so great he'd wondered if even karma could redress them.

But perhaps not, maybe this was karma, his penance being the continual protection of the Kingdom without rest. If he had a way to end everything, to cease this he would gladly take that opportunity. Except for a promise he had made, the one thing that gave him hope. Seeing that love on Prince Wolfram's face, the love he had for Shibuya, made him remember that _one thing_. After protecting the Kingdom, after ensuring the King's safety, after loving those around him, loving Yozak, all those things in that order, his priorities as Murata Ken. That _one thing_. Which was his reason, his goal, his promise and when he rested his soul's purpose.

He would never lose sight of that.

* * *

"Murata, _hello!_" Shibuya said irritably.

"Oh sorry, my mind had wandered."

"Obviously," He heard Prince Wolfram mutter under his breath.

"I was just asking what it was that Wolfram had agreed to, to be an anchor?" More questions Murata couldn't answer for he didn't know entirely. Nevertheless he needed to act as knowledgeable as possible.

"The spell is one which enables Yuuri's soul to be merged with the Maou instantaneously. It's a form of spell that puts a great deal of stress on mortal souls, the Maou spirit is powerful and without an anchor there is a chance that your soul would be pushed out, or even worst, destroyed. The anchor will keep Shibuya's soul in his body while I form a buffer against the pressures of the merge."

"Will that be dangerous for Wolfram and for you?"

"Very, but the entire spell is precarious. As far as I know it's only ever been used twice before and only succeeded once." He ignored Shibuya's frown. "With an anchor the spell is likely to succeed, especially since the Maou is accepting of Prince Wolfram's role. With an anchor your safety is ensured, Shibuya. But there is a level of risk for myself and the Prince, considerably more for the Prince."

Shibuya looked unhappy and stunned at this revelation. "What type of risk, what could go wrong?"

"He could die, which is the worst that I'd allow to happen." The Prince blanched at his words, but seemed resolute.

"The _worst _that you would allow!" Shibuya's voice was darkly derisive.

"There are worse things than death. If the strain as anchor becomes too much than Lord Bielefeld's soul would be destroyed, disintegrated, all that he was, all that he would be gone forever. I'd let his soul go free if I felt that was happening.. I won't let it be destroyed in that situation, and death would be preferable." He would kill him.

Throughout all of this Prince Wolfram remained outwardly calm, as if they were discussing the merits of provincial taxation instead of a plan which could lead to his death. Murata was impressed at such composure, he'd come a long way in the last five years.

"It's not worth the risk. I can't..._I can't _risk Wolfram's life or his soul." Shibuya's voice was shaking, his features pale.

"Yuuri, it's for the good of the Kingdom." Bielefeld said gently without hesitation. Murata was sure the Prince was frightened, but he remained composed.

Shibuya looked at his husband mutely, clearly at a loss for words.

"Shibuya, the Prince as anchor has a better chance than many; his soul is young so it's not burdened by regrets." His voice interrupted the silent communication between Shibuya and Prince Wolfram. It was important that the ritual went ahead, and he wasn't being entirely untrue with what he said.

"Yuuri," Bielefeld said his voice a plea.

The Prince looked down at the hand that he had clasped over Shibuya's not even bothering to acknowledge Murata's reassurance. "With everything as it is, this the best way, this means we keep _you safe_, keep Greta safe, keep the Kingdom safe."

"If I die will it still work?" Wolfram asked Murata directly, the Prince's eyes did not waver from Shibuya but it was obvious who he was addressing.

"There is a good chance." Better than your chances of survival. Murata thought.

"What do you mean by _good chance_?" Yuuri demanded and then continued without pause. "What are the chances that...that Wolfram would get hurt?"

"Shibuya, I can't say." _I won't say._

"You _must_ know. Please."

Murata sighed. "About twenty per cent." The guess...no _lie_ rolled off his tongue easily and without hesitation. He noticed Wolfram give him a sharp assessing look, but if he suspected anything he did not let on.

To be honest Murata had no idea what the exact percentages were, there were too many variables and he didn't know nearly enough to even guess. But if pressed he would have said that the Prince's survival rate was not great. But he wasn't going to admit that.

_Forgive me Yuuri, there is too much at stake to bet on your heart._ It occurred to him that by pushing for this, he might just be bringing about a future that was more terrible than his vision; although he could not imagine anything worst.

The Maou had been keen for the ritual, and he trusted the spirit more for the Maou could see something of what would be even if he had only the vaguest idea of linear time.

Almost as if the Prince had read his thoughts. "Yuuri, this is what the Maou wanted. He_ cares_; I don't think he'd want this if there was too much of a risk."

At any other time Murata would have advised caution, to wait at least a few decades. Then he'd be stronger and the bonds between Shibuya and his Prince firmer. The consummation could occur, if Prince Wolfram would let it. And Murata believed that the Prince would remain devoted enough to stay true to Shibuya for the time it took even if it made him unhappy.

But the dreams worried him, and the Maou would give the Kingdom more protection during this unstable time. And perhaps, he thought with sadness, if it was fated, von Bielefeld's death was what was required to save the Kingdom. Prince Wolfram had been in his vision, alive and not married to the King, if he was dead then there would be no holocaust, nothing to trigger the future and more powerful future King to cause such destruction. But these thoughts were something he would not say to anyone and ultimately it was pointless to second-guess anything at this stage.

"I will talk to Wolfram, privately before I make a decision, before _we _make a decision." Shibuya announced to the room. Murata found grim relief with Prince Wolfram's resolved countenance. There would be a conversation, but he was certain the decision had already been made.

* * *

It was an overcast night. Not as clear as Murata had wanted, but that was more a personal preference, his mind finding more comfort with a bright moon shining above instead of the low cloud cover. Lord von Voltaire had provided guards to ring the base of the Sacred Tree. There would be no intruders or any curious wayfarers to interrupt his spell weaving. It was only a few days since Shibuya had come back grim faced with the Prince to let them know their decision. The faster the merge went through, the better.

He looked over at Shibuya and Prince Wolfram, their faces lighted by the glow-ball that Murata had created earlier. Both had left their swords behind and were wearing casual clothes.

"Are you ready?" Murata asked, mentally checking that he'd brought all that was necessary. Shibuya gave a last look at the Prince before turning to Murata.

"As ready as we'll ever be."

* * *

Yozak had only been at the base of Covenent Hill for about fifteen minutes when he saw a familiar figure arriving on a brown horse.

"You're not supposed to be here." Conrad said while still mounted, looking down at him.

"Well, nor are you, Captain, and yet," Yozak lifted his arms to indicate everything around them "Here we are."

With a sigh Conrad got down from his horse and repeated in a weary sarcastic tone, although it was always hard to tell with Conrad. "Yes, here _we are_."

"From what I can see Lord von Voltaire's men have done a reasonable job of security. But it doesn't hurt to be sure; His Eminence would be too distracted to pay much mind to such matters." Yozak said.

Conrad said nothing in response, only petting his horse absently as he looked up at the hill. From such an angle and at night little could be seen. Through the gloom two of von Voltaire's men were barely visible twenty metres further up.

"I take it you've spoken to them," Conrad pointed up at the sentries.

"Yes, one of them is Eduardo. He didn't seem surprised to see me." Conrad nodded. Eduardo's sister was a popular dressmaker in the city and Conrad knew Yozak had known him for years. "I figure we're going to be here for a while. They only headed up about ten minutes ago." From out of his pack Yozak pulled out a small bottle of spirits. He threw it at Conrad who caught it adeptly and raised his eyebrows at him.

"You don't want a nip? Makes the time go by faster." Ken had slept most of the day, it didn't take a genius to work out he was looking at an all nighter.

"No," Conrad handed the bottle back.

Yozak sighed theatrically. "Does it really have to be this way?" He asked of Conrad dryly.

At first Yozak was afraid that Conrad would clam up and deny any issues he had, which was a typical response from the man. There was considerable pause; the wind carried the sound of a night raptor, and the horses of the sentry above.

"I don't know...anymore." Conrad eventually answered.

This was the opening Yozak was after; he knew that any opportunity was not to be wasted when it came to the reticent Captain.

"At first, Conrad, I thought it was because you had issues with the Great Sage, which I understand." He shrugged.

He didn't have to list all the issues Conrad had with Shinou and all those associated with his machinations. Yozak shared a lot of those feelings too.

"I've had relationships on and off over the last decade and I've never kept them a secret from you. You'd never seemed to be the jealous type." Yozak added. It had been a long time since they had been intimate.

"Perhaps it's because you are still upset over the King's marriage that you've been so bitchy lately." Yozak continued, deliberately hitting Conrad where he was most sensitive, wanting a reaction.

Conrad's eyes glinted dangerously at him but Yozak had never been easily intimidated by his old friend. "You _cannot_ lie to me Conrad Weller. I've been there from the start. I know exactly how you felt for her."

Yozak had hurt for Conrad too. As much as he'd wanted to be first in Conrad's heart he'd never wanted what happened to Julia and watching Conrad internalise his anger, guilt and sadness had been the hardest thing he'd had to endure.

"Yuuri _isn't _Julia." Conrad responded. His voice clipped.

"No," Yozak agreed, "But a part of her lives within him." Another long pause.

"Yes," Conrad admitted.

"It isn't fair." Yozak burst out at Conrad's admission. The anger and hurt that he felt surprised him. Surprised both of them it seemed as he took in Conrad's startled reaction. "Whatever it is you're feeling, whatever problem you have with me. I understand I get it _OK_. I don't ever expect you to become best friends with Ken Murata, but...he's the best thing that's happened to me in a while. I can't...I want us to stay friends." As if Yozak could ever stop caring. "It's not fair for you to take out your hurt at the King's marriage, at whatever guilt you feel about your little brother. To throw that hurt at Murata, and at me."

Yozak let out a breath of frustration. He pushed down his sudden desire to hit the Captain, to yell, to do anything to remove the pain he felt. And yet even then Conrad remained silent.

"If you continue being shitty about this, then...I choose Murata. I don't want to choose." Yozak stopped himself from saying more, trying to gain control, to calm down. "You're my best friend, Conrad, I love you." Yozak said in a strained voice. He shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his eyes in exasperation. Conrad was all that he had left of what he considered family.

"I've reconciled in myself Wolfram's marriage to His Majesty." Conrad surprised Yozak with that confession. "I've never seen Wolfram happier; I wouldn't risk that for anything, although my feelings are unlikely to change." Conrad looked at Yozak, his eyes open and sincere.

"Then why?" Yozak asked.

"It's not that it's the Great Sage," Conrad said, looking a little uncertain. "Well, it is a little." Conrad continued. "I don't entirely trust him, but mostly it's..." Conrad seemed a little lost for words. "Maybe I am jealous. I thought-

Both their horses were startled as the ground started to rumble and a bright light shot up into the sky from the centre of the Sacred Tree.

* * *

Yozak took in the scene, a little winded from running up the hill. They had managed to calm the horses down but there was no way they could convince them to go up the hill, so they scrambled up on foot. The bright light had gone, his eyes still seeing the bright after-image, he blinked it away. Wolfram and the King were sprawled under the tree unconscious, Wolfram lying on top, one arm across the King's chest protectively. Murata was a little way off, on his side, trying to push himself up on his elbows. Yozak went over to check on Murata as Conrad rushed over to see to the Royal couple.

"They are both breathing," Conrad said, he'd crouched down on his knees next to the Royal couple, his voice relieved.

"They should be fine," Murata rasped out. "At least one should be..." With an apparent effort he pushed himself up into a sitting position, but even that tiny exertion appeared too much as he pushed his hand against his eyes in pain.

"No, don't do that." Yozak groused as he got down on his knees and pulled Murata's face against his shoulder in support, one hand rubbing Ken's lower back soothingly. "Don't strain yourself, you've overdone it." Yozak recognised magical exhaustion clearly, he'd seen enough of it from other mazoku, and he guessed it would be no different for a human who had a similar gift. Without thought he removed Murata's glasses which were hanging dangerously askew, placing them safely in his pocket.

"Don't worry," Murata looked up at him owlishly. "I'm not dying; I know what that feels like." Murata chuckled in morbid humour which ended in a groan of pain as he pressed his head against Yozak's chest. Yozak held him tighter.

"You're an idiot." He looked around. Lord von Voltaire, his men and Gisela had appeared. Conrad were ordering the men with stretchers, Gisela was tending to the Prince.

"Yozak, help me over to them." Murata voice was desperate. Yozak helped him up, Murata sagging against him like a broken marionette.

"Forgive me, Your Eminence," he said dryly and in one swoop he pulled Murata up into his arms bridal style. The Great Sage was light, but he wasn't as heavy as he would have thought. _You should eat more. _

"Just don't make any sudden movements," Murata mumbled into his neck. He stealed a quick kiss to Ken's brow, attention was focused on the King and Prince anyway.

He carried Murata over to the Prince and gently kneeled next to the stretcher he was on. Conrad had just moved his little brother onto the stretcher; the young King was next to him on the ground now being looked over by Gisela. The Prince looked peaceful, as if he had just fallen asleep. Gisela looked up at them in concern.

"I'm fine, just exhausted." Murata told her, she didn't look convinced and Yozak didn't blame her. Julia wasn't the only person to have died from overextending their powers. But for some reason he trusted that Murata would be fine.

He supported Murata on his knees as the Great Sage touched Wolfram's brow softly his head cocked to one side as if listening to something or seeing something in his mind's eye. Conrad and Gisela on the other side were watching them, Gisela looking worried, Conrad wary.

"He's still there," Murata murmured to himself though he was sure that everyone had heard. Murata opened his eyes and looked across at Conrad. Murata looked completely shattered and Yozak could feel a slight trembling in his frame.

"The merge succeeded," and neither Yozak nor Conrad missed the air of absolute relief in his voice. "They will both be out for another couple of days. Make sure to keep them in the same room, do not separate them." Murata directed these instructions to Gisela.

She nodded and briskly started ordering the men to move the Prince's stretcher.

"Yozak," Murata whispered, his head resting heavily against his shoulder. "Near the tree is my bag and a goblet with blue pouch. I told von Voltaire not to touch them under any circumstances." The Great Sage paused and blinked his eyes. "Please put the goblet safely in the bag...don't touch it with your bare hands, nor open the pouch...it's dangerous...poison, don't let anyone take it...I think I'm..." Murata's head lolled loosely as he fainted dead away. Yozak held him close, feeling a surge of protectiveness. "Don't worry, consider it done."

* * *

Greta held up the oil lamp to see better in the gloom. It was dark at the barracks, most of the men had gone to sleep and Gwendal's men had left for some type of night exercise with her father and Papa. Sneaking out of the room had caused her some anxiety. Beatrice was a light sleeper and at any moment she expected her to awaken and ask why she was wandering out in the halls at night, fully dressed but Beatrice did not stir.

There was light under Michael's door, as Papa's second he got his own room. She knocked on the door tentatively and waited. There was no response, so she knocked harder, sure that anyone from within could hear. Still nothing, she pushed open the door, startled when it swung open immediately. Michael had not locked it.

"Michael?" She made a muffled squeal as someone grabbed her from behind, a hand across her mouth. The lamp dropped to the floor with a thud.


	10. Chapter 10

**Warnings: ** None.

**Summary: **Yuuri deals with the aftermath of the merge.

**

* * *

**

"You scared me half into my next life," Greta said still breathless from fright.

She gave Michael a look of exasperation after he removed his hand.

At least Michael looked sorry. It was lucky for him he'd removed his hand when he had, she'd been two seconds away from punching him in the groin the way Anissina had taught her if someone had grabbed her from behind.

Fortunately the copper oil lamp had extinguished when it had fallen. She bent over to retrieve it. When she got back up Michael had a strange look on his face, inexplicably Greta shivered.

Strange, it wasn't a cool night.

"What are you doing here?" Michael said roughly. No apology, no explanation. Greta felt her irritation grow.

"You just don't grab someone without a good reason," she accused, although her heart really wasn't in it. She didn't want to annoy Michael and she had come without an invitation.

"Sorry, I thought...well, I was worried about intruders," Michael said.

In the castle barracks? How was that likely? But Greta kept that thought to herself.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come around and see if you were awake, I know that sometimes you have night duties," she answered his earlier question.

"You really shouldn't be around here, Princess, by yourself. And how did you make it here without someone noticing?" Michael looked around suspiciously.

"I was quiet. Beatrice is a heavy sleeper and I took one of the side passages, hardly anyone knows about them."

She knew Michael was concerned about Papa finding out. Papa had been acting strange lately, he'd always been very protective of her, but recently...she could only conclude he'd noticed her interest in Michael. Poor Michael had probably been a recipient of her Papa's anger.

True to her theory, Michael didn't look that happy to see her. Maybe this wasn't a good an idea as she thought when she set out, she only wanted to talk. Greta hadn't seen Michael for ages.

Now they were standing in Michael's doorway and it looked like she wasn't going to be invited in. There was a pungent smell in the air. Desperate for something, anything to say to relieve the tension, she leaped on that.

"What is that smell, it's different?" It smelt of...something like minz leaf, but far more vinegary.

Michael looked unhappy with her question, and answered, voice clipped, "Healing unguents."

"Oh, I don't think I've smelt anything like that when I helped Gisela at the infirmary."

"It's...for field work, not very common." Michael dismissed her, obviously not wanting her around.

Greta could feel tears gathering, this had been a bad idea. As if she thought Michael would welcome her over, she was just a silly girl.

"Well..." She bit her lip, "I just thought, I...should be going then, I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Yes...all right."

She turned to leave and almost immediately the door was slammed shut behind her.

Later when she'd made it back to the rooms, gotten changed and crawled into the large bed next to Beatrice her friend had woken and murmured drowsily. "You smell strange."

"It's nothing." Greta said, "Nothing at all."

* * *

When Yuuri awoke he still felt the same as always.

_Almost. _

He no longer felt the presence of the Maou in that corner of the mind that he had once chained the spirit to. If it wasn't for the gnawing anxiety of what was to come Yuuri would feel greater relief in its absence.

The other difference was that he had a new awareness of Wolfram, a bond he hadn't had before. A bright shining sensation in his mind's eye. Whether that was normal or not did not bother Yuuri, for it seemed right, like it was supposed to be.

Yuuri didn't even need to open his eyes to see that Wolfram was lying next to him, asleep.

So he had received a big shock when he'd gone to relieve himself in the washroom.

Looking into the mirror his hair had grown long and his eyes..._the _eyes had changed. There weren't quite the severe feline-slit of the Maou, but there was a distinctive difference. His irises which had been dark brown had lightened a little, making the creepy pupils more noticeable.

The pupils were tapered on the top and bottom cat-like. Yuuri studied them in the mirror and shivered, he no longer looked human, and he no longer looked mazoku. The gaze was alien.

This is what people would see from now on. Would they be afraid? Yuuri blinked and put on a smile, _the _eyes didn't change. If anything with the smile they looked even creepier.

What would people think?

Wolfram would be fine with it, he could be sure of that. At the thought of Wolfram the smile in the mirror in front of him become more genuine and he noticed that the pupils had taken a much more rounded appearance. Not quite normal, but enough so it didn't look so weird, like Yuuri was a freak. But no sooner had those worrying thoughts flitted through his mind then the pupils changed again, slitted.

Maybe it was his moods which changed _his _eyes?

Yuuri splashed cold water onto his face and covered his eyes with shaking fingers, his other hand gripping the edge of the basin painfully. It would no longer be easy for him to go back to earth. Guess he had to invest in decent sunglasses. Yuuri's chuckle was dark, bordering on hysterical, hand still clamped over his eyes.

What would his parents think? His brother? Conrad...Greta?

He slowly opened his eyes, and his pupil slits were much more discernable with worry, though it looked plain menacing to him.

He would no longer be able to hide his feelings, not that Yuuri was good at that anyway.

He spent another few minutes over the basin, breathing deeply, calming himself down. He couldn't afford to have a major freak-out. This was _his _choice, he needed to deal.

"I like it," Wolfram had murmured when he returned from the washroom, the first self-aware words Wolfram had said since waking that morning, exhausted but whole.

The Prince was drowsy, eyes still fuzzy, carding his hands through Yuuri's long hair.

Wolfram had next looked up into his eyes and it was then that Yuuri started worrying, and by worrying he knew he would look even more freakish.

"_Yuuri_, your eyes?" Wolfram breathed, his tone not troubled but surprised.

"Do I look like a good Demon King now? I still feel like me," Yuuri had to add, more to reassure himself.

Wolfram had looked at him gently and reached out and cupped his chin, "You look like Yuuri."

He gave Wolfram a relieved kiss on the forehead and his husband had fallen asleep instantly.

* * *

Murata wasn't surprised, which Yuuri expected, he would have been worried if he had been.

"I've never seen the Maou spirit manifest as strongly in any mazoku as much as in you. It would make sense for you to take on some physical characteristics," Murata said, looking him over with obvious curiosity.

Murata's gaze made Yuuri feel self-conscious. He tried not to duck his head, keeping eye contact, he needed to get used to this.

"I still feel like me." Yuri said again. If he kept saying it, it had to be true.

There was a creeping feeling telling Yuuri that it might _not_ be true, that things weren't quite the same. And that wasn't counting his connection with Wolfram. Now that he'd become aware of his eyes there were other things which he'd started to notice. Like a heightened sense of hearing, if he focused he had been able to hear Wolfram's soft breathing from the washroom and it was easier to see things in the dark room. When Murata had first walked in Yuuri thought he'd been able to see a muted, blue-green aura around his friend, which was definitely _new_. Yet he still felt like Yuuri.

He focused his attention back on his friend. Murata was pale and visibly exhausted.

If anything, he looked much worse than Wolfram. Standing there in his sleep robe, his hair tied back messily. There were dark shadows under his eyes.

Gisela had placed him in a room next to theirs; 'magical exhaustion' he had told Yuuri wearily as explanation.

"You won't feel much of a change within yourself in that way...probably. The changes will be in how you perceive the world." Murata said.

"What do you mean by _probably_?" It came out harsher then he'd wanted, but Yuuri was afraid. He knew well enough how Murata would fudge things to spare people's feelings, or spare himself drama.

Murata sighed and sat down heavily on the room's one chair. Yuuri was sitting on the end of their bed, Wolfram sound asleep behind him.

"As I've said before, the Maou had an ego, the ritual subsumed him in yours. Normally that would be the end of it, but...I don't know what the outcome will be here. I imagine that you will find that there will be more changes other than physical appearance and more abilities, heightened perception. You'll be stronger. He ended the last words in a mild tone as Murata took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes.

There was silence, for a moment. Then as an afterthought Murata added.

"If it's any consolation, the Maou personality is based on you, he was like a shadow of yourself, some of it is from his past, but a lot of its ego it would have taken from you. Remember what I said before?"

This was way too philosophical for Yuuri, he didn't want to think about things like self, or identity. It frightened him. Besides, he could literally smell Murata's uncertainty and exhaustion, acrid-like. Murata certainly looked calmer than Yuuri's senses were telling him.

"So the short answer is that you don't know?"

Murata nodded his head wearily in agreement. Well, at least he was honest.

Yuuri dragged his fingers through his hair in anxiety, letting Murata see how scared he was. He didn't have to be strong now for Murata; even if he wanted to he had no energy for it.

"I'm worried sick, Murata, what if Yuuri is dead, what if the Yuuri I think I am isn't the Yuuri that was yesterday."

Murata rubbed his chin and closed his eyes thoughtfully before addressing Yuuri.

"None of us are who we were yesterday, Shibuya. We are all a sum of our memories, our experiences and the people in our lives. I don't even think the change that may have taken place yesterday will be any greater than the way you changed over the last few years as King of Shin Makoku. Are you anything like the Yuuri you were when you were fifteen?"

"No…" But Yuuri wasn't sure if it was that simple. Such changes took place gradually over many years.

"How is Prince Wolfram?" Murata asked, changing the topic. Yuuri decided to let the subject rest; he turned and caressed Wolfram's hair gently.

"He seems okay, tired. Conrad and Gwendal came to check on him this morning."

Yuuri had feigned sleep when they had arrived early that morning. He'd listened as Gisela quietly informed the brothers that everything was fine. Later on Wolfram had woken his, eyes a little aware, long enough to reassure Yuuri. Long enough to know that Wolfram had no memory of what had happened during the ritual.

"He doesn't remember any of it. Do you?"

"Yes." Murata didn't elaborate.

"He came very close to dying, Murata. I didn't realise the amount of power he'd have to absorb, but then, it was like something snapped into place and I knew how to protect him, to shield him."

It was odd that Yuuri didn't feel angry at that thought, of Wolfram risking his life for this, for him. Before the ritual he wasn't one hundred per cent sure of what he wanted, he needed to protect the people, but was afraid for Wolfram. Now Yuuri knew it was the right choice, and he suspected that Murata had never let on how much risk that Wolfram was under, but…it didn't matter, it had worked.

Wolfram was now _his_ and nothing would hurt him, or take him away from him, ever. A current of disquiet went through him, but Yuuri ignored it. Still petting Wolfram's hair, he spoke.

"I feel Wolfram in my head, just like I used to feel the Maou, but it's different. He's connected to me now."

While the Maou had been a presence whose intentions he could read, sometimes. Wolfram was like a bright light, a sun that was connected to him on a fundamental level. He couldn't read anything from it in detail, but the connection told him that Wolfram was well, that all was well between them.

Yuuri just _knew_.

Murata nodded wearily, his friend looked like he wanted to say something more, but he shook his head instead.

"I'm glad this turned out well, we'll have to talk more about this later. You will find some changes in your abilities, it probably won't kick in all at once, your body will need the time to adjust...to change. It might be distressing at first, Shibuya, but please talk to me about it, or speak to your husband. Don't keep it to yourself."

Murata looked him in the eye. The seriousness he saw there didn't comfort him at all. Yuuri nodded. Scenting truth, it suddenly occurred to Yuuri that nobody would ever be able to lie to him again, not without him noticing, not even Murata who had perfect control over his body language. But he kept that thought to himself, possibly Murata knew this.

Yuuri dimly realised that this would change things, the balance had tipped and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it, or even if he wanted to think about it at all.

Murata stood up slowly.

"I need rest. Yozak said he was coming by this afternoon and if he found me up and about he'd skin me alive."

Yuuri nodded, feeling vaguely tired too.

"I'll speak to you later." Yuuri said his attention back on Wolfram. He distantly heard the door shut.

Yuuri crawled back under the covers, curled up against Wolfram, breathed in the scent and comfort of the prince's presence and knew no more.

* * *

Yozak had managed to get Murata in his bed on the third night after he'd fainted, Gisela reluctantly releasing the Great Sage from her care.

Yozak needed to spend time with Murata, to see for himself that his partner was safe and whole.

After tonight there would be frantic preparations, little time for Yozak to get Murata to himself.

Ken would need to return to the Temple to do last minute paperwork, hand over what he could to Lady Ulrike and Lord von Voltaire. Yozak would be escalating surveillance, calling in quite a few favours and spending just as much time in various meetings. Then Murata and the King would be absent for two weeks, with a couple of days travel both ways it would be closer to three weeks.

The times were ominous and Yozak was trying to subdue the bad feeling he got in the pit of his stomach. Undoubtedly the King needed a break and quality time with the Prince. Not to mention it would give Murata down time, fates only knew that rest was sorely needed for Ken.

If only said down time could involve Yozak too, they'd never gotten away together, never had that opportunity. Only stealing nights alone when they could.

Yozak was pragmatic about this relationship, he was a common half-breed, royal spymaster or no. Murata was the Great Sage, his humanity was inconsequential to his high status in the eyes of the Aristocracy and Kingdom.

Their relationship need not be hidden, but it would have to always be discreet and would never be acknowledged. There would be no vows at a temple, or official recognition amongst peers. But even so...he couldn't help but be greedy, to take everything he could, to make their few moments together mean something for however long that would last.

At the moment Murata wasn't doing much resting, he was going through some old tome he'd gotten Lord von Christ to retrieve for him, and his body exuded exhaustion.

"Come to bed, Ken." Yozak said gently.

Murata put one hand up in a just-a-minute gesture, his head still in the book

"Yes, I just…there is one thing I have to check first."

Yozak heaved a sigh and got out of bed, standing behind Murata and with very little protest he placed the leather bookmark in and quietly closed the book.

"The way you are at the moment, I doubt you'd be able to find anything you're looking for, especially…ancient Shimerian," Yozak looked at the cover, he could only vaguely read it, something about nature divinities, the old cursives were hard to read. With deliberate care Yozak doused the desk candles with the bronze candle snuffer.

"Come to bed," Yozak repeated, and he wasn't asking.

Murata nodded wearily, took his glasses off and allowed Yozak to lead him to his bedside, where Yozak helped him out of his black jacket and shirt.

When Yozak had gotten his love into an old linen nightgown, worn soft with use, he switched the glow-crystal lamp off on the side table next to the bed and crawled under the covers and held out his arms for Murata.

When Murata was settled, he nuzzled his ears, inhaled the scent of Ken's hair, and planted a gentle row of kisses from his earlobe down his throat. No much heat, just tender affection.

Murata hummed sleepily, head tilted to give him access and then curled against him, his fingers caressing Yozak's collarbone lightly in appreciation before resting against him.

It didn't feel right until he had Ken against his chest. Murata had been running himself ragged over this whole ritual, alongside worry over Lord von Rochford's plans. Not that anything could be done about the latter at this point and Murata had kept very tight-lipped about the former.

Murata was asleep within seconds, but sleep remained elusive for Yozak. On his back he studied a crack on the ceiling and tried to still his mind, his thumb rubbing gentle circles across Murata's knuckles.

As a half-breed he had never been magically gifted, he knew enough about it for his profession, enough to know that arcane elements were dangerous and not to be messed with lightly. Most mazoku had only basic abilities, parlour tricks with little practical use.

The Aristocrats were the stronger users, which is why their families had gained and maintained power over their regions, some quite ruthlessly. It was also the reason why all of them were particular about their pedigree, carefully choosing breeding partners to ensure that their prodigy would continue being strong element users, the continued success of their House depended upon it. That would make things_ interesting_ when Prince Wolfram got older and his family put pressure on him to sire. He mentally shrugged, that was a future matter and mercifully way out of Yozak's jurisdiction.

Up until King Yuuri had arrived Prince Wolfram had been the strongest elemental user of this generation, some said he was as strong as their forefathers, whose awesome abilities were legendary. It had come as no surprise to most who didn't know the details that the Demon King would select Lord von Bielefeld as a Consort. In a society where magical ability was privileged almost over everything, much more than Conrad's military leadership and skill with the sword, Lord von Christ's scholarly knowledge or wealth, or even Lord von Voltaire's bureaucratic and political expertise, Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld was the ideal choice.

Yozak was a naturally cynical person…but even he thought there was credence to the popular rumours that Wolfram had been born and gifted by Shinou just so he'd become the Maou's partner. Conrad's youngest brother had been born just at the right time and into the right family to be of marriageable age when the King arrived.

Which led his thoughts back to the ritual, he never pressed Murata about it, the whys or the hows, but he knew that the power that was wielded that night had potential for great destruction.

Anything involving the Maou, young Bielefeld and Murata's divine entrusted powers couldn't be anything but awesome. The fireworks that night were impressive enough. Yozak could understand why Conrad was worried, he was too, but he trusted Murata. Yozak listened to his instincts when it came to people and Murata was a good man underneath the scheming that was necessary to assist the King.

The object of his worries murmured slightly in sleep, and shifted against him, seeking some type of reassurance in slumber. Yozak stroked Murata's hair lightly and his partner settled.

It was strange that Conrad had called the young King the sun, bringer of light, and that Murata was the moon bright in the shadow. Murata was the conduit to Shinou, the traditional symbol of light and the Maou was the darker element. Two parts of a whole necessary for Shin Makoku's religion, but there was no temple for the Maou. None was needed, for his presence was in nature, the Maou was revered by all mazoku but there was a healthy amount of fear too.

Yet it was Murata who was commonly called the shadow-king, hidden by the light of something that wasn't anything like the sun.

Yozak shivered, a bad feeling went through him, a premonition he tried to dismiss. He caressed Murata's fringes slightly and resisted the urge to unbind the loose braid that he'd bound his hair in for sleep.

It worried Yozak that Murata was caught up in the centre of everything. He trusted Ken's abilities, but if things went south this was something he could not protect him against.

Yozak rolled on his side, kissed the crown of Murata's head and willed himself to sleep.

* * *

It was Murata who suggested that they get away from the capital for a couple of weeks while Yuuri and Wolfram were still recovering. Yuuri felt fine, Wolfram was the one who was still in need of rest.

Yuuri was almost feeling himself less than a day afterward, just a little tired. In contrast Wolfram had been silent, exhausted and had spent the next three days sleeping, thrashing around in nightmares if Yuuri wasn't there.

In those three days he'd spent some time talking to Murata quietly in the room while Wolfram slumbered, mostly about ordinary work matters. But there were few instructions about what Yuuri might expect, such as his heightened senses, or his new ability to see auras. There were a couple of books on the subject which Murata had given him, but so far they hadn't been helpful.

"The Maou sees the world differently; it's not a stretch to think he sees people differently as well." Murata said.

Wolfram's aura was so very different from almost everyone in the castle, a golden, pure light, much like the colour of his hair. At first, Yuuri had thought it was a colour unique to Wolfram, much like he'd not been able to see anyone with Murata's murky green-blue colouring.

But then he saw a small girl playing near the kitchens, a child of one of the servants, and her colouring was just as golden, in fact if anything it was a little brighter.

He had asked Murata about it.

"The golden one..."Murata had said with a smile.

"What?" At the edge of his mind Murata's words brought an image to his head, but he couldn't focus on it clearly. He'd been getting more of these ghost-like memories, déjà-vue-like. It was unsettling.

"The Maou, at the ritual in the temple he had called Prince Wolfram 'the golden one' he's a new soul. For me, the Prince's aura is a white colour, white-blue. There aren't that many around. It's said that when new souls stop being born that it will be beginning of the end times, I don't know if it's true but it's a comfort for me to see that there are new souls."

"He has no prior life?" Yuuri knew that Wolfram's soul was young, but he had no idea it was that new.

"No...your aura once was similar, this would only be your second life, it was one of the main reasons you were chosen."

He'd always believed in reincarnation being brought up Buddhist, although he'd never put much thought into it. Having it confirmed wasn't as startling as discovering he was the destined Demon King for a country in another dimension with dragons, flesh eating pandas and fire-wielding princes. It made sense; there must be a beginning for every soul, just like everything else.

"So if souls have a beginning...where do they come from?"

Murata smiled enigmatically.

"Who knows? There are many things that I, with so many thousand years of memories and learning can't hope to know. Even if I continued like this for another million years I don't think I could find out. As cliché as it is, some things are beyond our understanding."

Yuuri could smell truth in the statement, but there was more being hidden. It didn't take his heightened senses to work this out. Murata had always been secretive. An irrational surge of anger went through him, and Yuuri tampered that down quickly. He'd been a bit moodier the last couple of days.

Not surprising. It troubled Yuuri how people perceived him now.

The various castle servants and soldiers showed some bewildered awe, though they hid it well. Sometimes he could smell other people's anxiety, almost dread. He would have to work harder to get people to trust him; he didn't want to be a feared King. Yuuri wasn't used to frightening people, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

He was very glad for the support of those he was close to.

Wolfram and Greta weren't fazed, nor was Gisela. Günter was effusive about how majestic he appeared. Gwendal and Conrad had had a moment of double-take the first time they saw his eyes, surprisingly Gwendal managed to hide it better after the initial shock, Conrad had seemed wary for a few moments. Yuuri had nervously waved then wished he hadn't as Wolfram gave him a tired side-eye from the bed for being undignified. That impulsive gesture had alleviated the tension. Conrad had given him a genuine smile, a small one, but still, so it was worth it.

Other than Wolfram he was most grateful for his daughter's reaction, he had a suspicion that someone had told her beforehand but even so she's hugged him and said shyly.

"The Maou has protected me and saved my friends and Papa, I'm not scared." And she wasn't, not one bit, Greta had hugged him harder and he blinked the tears back in his eyes.

There was still his parents to worry about and his brother, who had returned to earth a few weeks ago, but he wouldn't think about that now, he wouldn't see them for a while.

* * *

It was a subdued inner circle meeting. Wolfram was doing his best to look well and interested.

Today was one of the few days he wished he didn't have to wear black as prince consort, he knew it wasn't flattering when he was ill. But he was determined to support Yuuri in this, everyone had already seen the physical changes in various private meetings – but having everyone here at once, well, Wolfram was getting second hand anxiety for Yuuri.

It didn't matter to Wolfram that Yuuri had taken on some of the characteristics of the Maou, for so many years it was the Maou who had protected him, he couldn't see the Maou as a threat, anymore than Yuuri. Besides, Yuuri was incredibly attractive in this form.

But he knew that others wouldn't see him the same way, especially the human world that had no traditions or sacred instruction to accept Yuuri as divine leader.

They were in the usual seating, Conrad standing behind, Gwendal, Murata and Yozak opposite and Günter sitting next to him. Wolfram placed his hand in Yuuri's deliberately, not quite glaring at everyone, but close enough for them all to see that if anyone had any issue with his new appearance they would have to come through him first. Not that he thought there would be, but better to be certain.

"Our suspect hasn't done anything suspicious as yet, and I've got almost all the staff I can spare watching him and the Rochford Estate. If they are planning something for the confirmation they have already made preparations, or are yet to make their move." Gwendal said.

"So what is our next move? Should we take him in?" Yuuri asked gravely.

"I'd still advise against it, Your Majesty," Yozak said, his face grim. "I know it's frustrating not knowing what is happening but quite frankly he's still our major lead. The only operative we know who has ties to Lord von Rochford, I have a feeling that if he is going to make a move, it will be soon."

Wolfram watched as Yuuri's eyes became more feline, to anyone who didn't know him it would be frightening, but Wolfram knew he was just worried.

"There are just over three weeks until the marriage confirmation." Conrad said, standing from behind Yuuri. "It's almost been two months since we discovered Wagner's treachery. We're running out of time." The frustration in Conrad's voice was reflected on everyone's face, except for Gwendal who looked normally grim, and Murata who looked exhausted

"Which is why I think it's a good idea to get both of you out of the Capital until then," Murata said. "As well as the Princess, it wouldn't be seen to be unusual for you to have some family-time before the confirmation and it will be a plausible reason to keep Wagner here acting as your second with your squad, Prince Wolfram." Murata nodded to him.

"This could possibly be a trap, to lure them out into the country where we cannot protect them." Günter said, scribe in hand, looking unusually serious today.

Murata put his palms up slightly to show he conceded the possibility.

"They will be safe enough when they get to the Voltaire Estate," Gwendal said steadily. "I and my cousin have invested a lot of time and money to monitor the roads west, it is the safest route in the Kingdom. If Rochford tries anything it will be risky for him and the Estate is secure, Huber is to be trusted with security. It is a good idea, Your Eminence and I think the plan is sound, my only wish is that you could stay here too, to act as regent. I don't think it's wise for you to also travel in the same train as the Royal family."

Murata had consulted almost all of them before the meeting.

"Normally I would agree, But I...believe I should be on hand to monitor the situation after the merge." Murata said neutrally.

There, Wolfram thought, saying the one thing that everyone was thinking but not willing to bring up.

Yuuri said nothing but stiffened slightly.

"Which is also why I think it's a good idea for Weller and Lord von Christ to accompany Shibuya, and with your troops, Lord Voltaire, I think we'll be adequately protected." Murata said steadily.

"What about the castle?" Wolfram asked everyone. It was a remote risk, but he had to ask.

"We have two hundred of my troops stationed here, with Conrad and Wolfram's men we have another two hundred in addition to fifty of Lady von Christ's elite guard." Gwendal nodded to Günter. "The Castle is adequately defended, if any of the Aristocrats who we know are aligned with Rochford were foolish enough to try armed insurrection they would not only have to deal with the troops stationed here but with troops that our allies have."

Gwendal was right, Karbelnikoff, Wincott and even Bielefeld would send troops in to support the King if it came down to it. If Rochford wanted to damage the King his methods would need to be more underhand.

"I don't think it's Lord von Rochford's style." Yozak said confidently. "If he's going to do something to Prince Wolfram, it's going to be by some other means."

They all fell silent as they waited for Yuuri to make a decision.

"Is it possible, perhaps, if we confront him about this. Talk to him. He has a problem with Wolfram -"

"He has a problem with you as well, Yuuri." Wolfram said irritably, interrupting.

"He's right," Gwendal said quietly, you know he's never been happy that you're...half-human."

"Not that I look it now, right?" Yuuri laughed humourlessly. "But his bug is mostly with Wolfram, and it's probably due to the incident that led to his brother's death. It was an accident, is there no way we can convince him."

"I doubt it," Gwendal said, "not after all this time and if we invite him to the Capital before the confirmation it will be suspicious, you've never seeked him out for counsel before and there is no alliance or friendship between his house and any of your closest allies." Gwendal waved his hands to indicate everyone in the room. Well there had been ties between Wolfram's house and Rochford's, but they had cooled noticeably over the last month. Wolfram had tried to contact his Uncle to find out more, but had met with silence. It was frustrating.

"And he's likely to do something we can't predict then, huh." Yuuri said. "Is it really a good idea for me to be leaving the Capital at this time?" Yuuri addressed Murata.

"I think so, Shibuya, not just for you and the Prince's health, but for Greta's safety," Wolfram knew that was a point where Yuuri would capitulate, and it's here he was in agreement as well, but he didn't like the casual manipulation Murata used to persuade his husband and he glared at Murata openly.

"I really wish that there wasn't so much politics with keeping everyone happy." Yuuri said, more to himself than to anyone else present. If anyone else had an opinion on that they kept it to themselves.

Yuuri looked at everyone, his eyes giving him a more stately appearance.

"So, when do we leave?"

* * *

It was just after the meeting that the Great Sage approached him. Yuuri was doing paperwork catch-up with Gwendal now that he was reassured that Wolfram was better.

Wolfram was determined to check on his men at least once before retiring for bed. Gisela had said he was physically fine; but the ritual had affected him in some way even if nobody could work out how. Fortunately Wolfram was recovering; oddly he hadn't suffered from magical exhaustion like the Wise Man.

Who was currently blocking his way.

"Are you feeling better?" Murata asked him politely. Such an ironic question considering how washed out Murata looked.

"Well enough." Wolfram replied cautiously, he wasn't looking forward to anything Murata had to say.

"Can we talk in private?"

Wolfram frowned. "Quickly, I believe the reference room is empty."

When they got there Wolfram leaned against the table, not wanting to settle in, he hoped that the Great Sage would pick up on his wish for this to be done quickly. He folded his arms in front of him and waited for Murata to speak.

Murata quirked one eyebrow and perched himself on the window-sill, presumably so he could be on eye level with Wolfram.

"I want to talk to you about Shibuya, Your Highness." Murata said neutrally.

What a surprise. Wolfram narrowed his eyes

"There is little to talk about, the ritual went well," Wolfram paused, "I thank you for your assistance."

Wolfram was sincere in his gratitude, knowing he was indebted to Murata's expertise. But he still remained wary of anything else that the Wise Man wanted.

"I'm sure that Shibuya has told you a little about his changes?"

Wolfram nodded, not giving anything away. He knew his husband was worried about the merge, and he knew a little of what Murata had discussed with Yuuri.

"I want you to let me know if he displays any...problematic behaviour." Murata said his posture casual and open, in contrast to Wolfram, stiff with his arms still folded.

"What do you mean?" Wolfram didn't like the direction this conversation was heading.

Murata frowned and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the wise man looked out the window to the courtyard below, seemingly in thought. Before Wolfram became too impatient Murata turned his head to give him a quick appraisal before answering.

"If he becomes short-tempered or unreasonable, more than the situation merits." Murata shrugged, "keeping in mind that this is a stressful time, of course."

"Sure, is that all?" Wolfram unfolded his arm. Clearly there was nothing to worry about. His tone was a deliberate dismissal. One, judging by Murata's body language, wasn't being heeded.

"No... I also want _you_ to be aware, Prince Wolfram, of his behaviour towards you." Murata's voice was grim as he looked rather pointedly at Wolfram.

Wolfram folded his arms again. He was tired and this was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

"If he dismisses your opinion without cause, tells you what you should do, is possessive or _forceful_," Murata continued his tone flat without any inflection.

Wolfram_ definitely_ didn't like what Murata was suggesting.

"Yuuri _isn't_ like that," Wolfram snapped. How could Murata even suggest it?

Wolfram closed his eyes, calmed himself and continued, this time keeping his voice steady with force of will.

"He would _never_ do anything that would make me unhappy. You make it sound as if he's going to start abusing me, don't be absurd." He gave a short derisive laugh.

This was Yuuri they were talking about, how anybody could think that his wimpy husband could hurt a soul was beyond him.

"The Maou is an extremely dominant personality, he jealousy guards what is his and he doesn't have any understanding of our morals, of the boundaries we have, of basic mazoku interaction." Murata adjusted his glasses, his eyes revealing little.

Hadn't they already discussed this?

"The Maou is Yuuri, you said he was before in a way, now you've guaranteed this is the case with the merge." Wolfram was trying to keep his voice steady but knew he was failing. Infuriatingly as usual Murata seemed to take that in his stride.

"Yes, but the Maou is a strong spirit, it could be...it's unlikely considering how strong Shibuya is, but there is a possibility that those traits could affect his moods. Which is why I want you to let me know if he starts acting oddly, these things can escalate."

Wolfram inhaled a deep breath, resisting the urge to pull at his hair in tired frustration.

"Even if you what you suggest is remotely possible." Wolfram's smile was forced, "You'd think I would let Yuuri push me around? I'm not exactly a delicate flower." He gave Murata a disdainful look, his hand going down to the pommel of his sword which he carried with him almost everywhere, not a threat, but a message nevertheless.

One corner of Murata's mouth turned up. "I have noticed, and I think that's good for Shibuya. But...I know you'd forgive Shibuya a lot. And he is your King, you might feel duty-bound."

This was ridiculous. "So you'd think I'd hide things, going to start searching me for bruises?" He said, a thick layer of scorn coloured his voice.

The Great Sage laughed mirthlessly and fixed him with a cool look, as warm as ice. "No, but I could order you to let me know in the unlikely event that his behaviour changes."

Wolfram's mouth flopped open for a second. Of course the Great Sage outranked him, he was the only other person other than Yuuri who did now that he was Prince Consort. Murata had never ordered him to do anything, not once in all the years he'd known him.

He couldn't believe he would start now and in such a personal matter.

"But I won't." Murata said mildly. "Instead I'll go back to that deal we were discussing before the ritual." Murata gave him a long look. "I told you I'd come to you before I made any decision that would impact on Shibuya and the Kingdom, and that you'd help me gain his agreement."

"I didn't say that an agreement is guaranteed, or I'd work against Yuuri or keep anything from him."

"Indeed, I understood that clearly at the time." Murata nodded, his body still.

It was both impressive and frightening how difficult it was to read the Great Sage's intentions.

"I'm happy with your terms," Murata said, "In return, I only ask this one thing. Any change in his behaviour that is unusual, that can't be explained by an extraordinary stressful situation, let me know. You know him much better than most anyone, Your Highness, and you see a side of him that no-one else does, so I'm sure you'll know if anything is amiss."

Wolfram closed his eyes for a moment, teeth worrying at his lips. The Great Sage had put him in a corner, it was no accident that he'd pulled rank on him oh-so-casually. Wolfram took Shin Makoku etiquette seriously and Murata knew that, there would be no doubt that the Great Sage would get his way.

Wolfram took another deep breath, really he had nothing to lose – Yuuri was worried about Murata making decisions without his knowledge and if all he had to do was make this one promise, one that didn't think he'd ever have to worry about then it was a simple matter.

"I accept the deal, Your Eminence."

Murata gave him a tired smile, strangely relieved and genuine.

"Thank you."

* * *

The few days leading up to their journey to the Voltaire Province had been busy. Murata had, in a light bit of humour, named it their honeymoon trip and the phrase had caught on. Greta had fallen in love with the term after honey was explained to her by Wolfram 'It's a sweet additive, like berris, but nicer' and a promise to bring back some from Earth.

The moon was a good omen in Shin Makoku so 'sweet-hunny-moon' was lucky.

Yuuri hardly thought that bringing their daughter and friend Beatrice along with half of the castle qualified as a proper honeymoon, but he wasn't going to object. He knew that the next two weeks would be the most privacy he'd get with Wolfram for a while, possibly years.

His husband was always nearby; something that once would have irritated him was now a great source of comfort when the fears became overwhelming. During the day he could bury himself in preparations and work, but at night worry ate away at him. Yuuri was afraid that the Maou would take over, that he'd be swallowed whole and become another person, he would toss and turn until Wolfram pulled him into his arms

Yuuri didn't want to talk about his worries. He had an irrational feeling that to express his fears would bring them about, but Wolfram must have sensed his distress, for he would hold him tight and stroke his unruly hair until he slept.

It was in the second day of their trip to Voltaire Estate when the changes began to manifest in full. Yuuri's smell, sight and hearing increased, swamping him in multiple sensations. He could clearly hear the discussion between Murata and Günter at the front of the entourage about some obscure period of history. Every _word_, and could smell the scent of Wolfram on the other horse, his hair, skin, his sweat. Yuuri shivered, unable to explain a sudden flare of feeling along his spine.

At lunch when they stopped he took a walk into the forest, accompanied by a nervous Conrad. Yuuri wanted to tell him that there was nobody nearby apart from wildlife, but he needed some space, a moment of respite from everything, he had no energy for explanations. He knew some type of large cat was watching, with it came the certainty that the cat was not a threat, only curious about the strange creatures in its territory. He sat down heavily on a log, overcome with all these scents and sound.

Yuuri couldn't tell how much time had gone by, he vaguely registered Conrad calling him, then Murata.

"Shibuya, are you feeling alright?" The touch of a hand on his cheek broke him out of the spell, if only briefly. He felt like he was going to be sick. Murata was kneeling beside him, Conrad was behind the Great Sage, radiating worry.

"I think my body is starting to catch up, I can sense everything and it's making me dizzy." He said to nobody in particular before getting inundated again by sensation.

"Shibuya, Shibuya...listen to me,"

He ignored the grating voice. Wolfram was nearby, his presence which was the brightest, and he had a strong feeling of possessiveness, the strong emotion taking him by surprise with its intensity. Wolfram would make it better.

"Shibuya?" Oh blast did Murata have to yell.

"Where's Wolfram?" He asked urgently. Panic gripped him, "I _need _Wolfram."

"Make it stop, the noises, make it stop. _Wolfram?"_ He asked again, he could feel him, he was here. He pushed Murata's hand away, this wasn't right…he needed…he _needed_…

"Bielefeld, come here" He heard Murata say distantly. "Hold his hand, talk to him."

Yuuri felt a warm hand on his and the noise lessoned a little.

"Yuuri, it's okay, I'm here." Wolfram's voice was soothing, gentle. A finger brushed against one eyebrow. It was then that Yuuri realised his eyes were shut closed tightly, afraid to let the light in.

"It's just the noise it was… I could see everything and hear everything; it's hard to make it stop."

"Its fine, you're fine, Yuuri…love, it's fine." He buried his head against Wolfram's chest, hearing Wolfram's heartbeat. He focused all his will on that reassuring noise, the others noises didn't stop entirely – but it became less and he put his arms around Wolfram tightly.

After a few moments like that, he sighed and let Wolfram go.

"I'm good now." He opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight. Behind Wolfram, Conrad, Gisela and Murata were watching him with concern.

"It's just…" Yuuri looked at everyone. "Can I talk to Wolfram alone?"

Murata nodded, and with the others headed back to the road.

"It's like, _everything_…it makes me feel I'm going insane. I'm scared." He admitted.

"What do you mean, Yuuri?" Wolfram sat down next to him, his hand still in his.

"It's hard to explain, it's like...my hearing, my sense of smell, the way I see things, have all changed, and it's unbearable, too much information."

Wolfram looked at him worriedly.

"Did Murata tell you this would happen?"

"Yes...no..._not_ really. He said my perception would change, but not like this...but you make it easier"

"How is that?" Wolfram asked him quietly, "I'm not doing anything."

Yuuri felt himself getting all embarrassed. "It's your heartbeat, your aura, it's like…." An idea came to the surface, like an old memory, it wasn't his but there nevertheless.

"Close your eyes."

Wolfram closed his eyes and Yuuri clasped his other hand over the one that was already in Wolfram's…and concentrated, his eyes closing shut, seeing without seeing. He could sense everything, but he focused on Wolfram's spirit, Wolfram's heartbeat kept him centred. He opened his eyes, and it was like being in another world, everything glowed around him, the trees, the flowers, even the sky.

Some in colours he couldn't even recognize. There also came an delicate awareness of where things were, Murata and the others were off on the road waiting, the cat was still watching curiously, if he focused the right way he could feel the Capital in the distance, a huge glow of human, animal and mazoku aura mingling as one unique soul.

My city, _my_ world. Not only did things look differently, but so was his hearing, his smell…he looked over at Wolfram, golden Wolfram, _also mine, _there was a glimmer of disquiet at that notion but he pushed it from his mind.

The connection between them was a white shining thread…string; he couldn't quite make it out. He focused on it, and watched as his aura encircled it, and slowly, delicately merged so that the colours altered, all the way up until it met Wolfram's aura.

Wolfram gasped and shivered his aura sparkling-flickering briefly.

"Yuuri?" Not quite fear but Wolfram's voice was uneasy.

"Open your eyes." Yuuri said quietly.

Wolfram did. He blinked, his mouth opening and closing, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"This is what I see. Do you feel it?" Feel it, not see it, for it was so much more than sight.

"It's so beautiful…" Wolfram looked down at where their hands were touching.

"That's…that's what keeps me from going insane." Yuuri felt so vulnerable in admitting that. This is how important you are to me. Can you not see that, Wolfram? Yuuri thought.

Wolfram was still looking at their linked hands.

"Is that what you see all the time? The world is so…it's so vast." Wolfram said slowly, his voice hitching...'

"No, not all the time, it comes and goes over the last week, I don't think I could bear it for long, but having you here, this…it makes it easier." Murata had called Wolfram his anchor, and he could see that now, Wolfram kept him here, in the present, stopped him from getting lost in this new alien awareness.

"Yuuri I…" and the way that Wolfram was looking at him, the golden aura, it was perfect. Yuuri couldn't help himself, he leaned over and kissed him. His eyes closed and suddenly Wolfram's arms were around him and the kiss deepened, and Wolfram made a little noise, a small whimper which sent shivers down his spine, down his toes, his skin felt so sensitive…and _oh…_

This…this is _desire_. Wolfram gently ended the kiss and pulled back and Yuuri opened his eyes, the world was back to normal, and Wolfram was looking at him as if he there was nothing else in the world. And Yuuri couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

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